The Only Easy Day, Was Yesterday
by Sir Yeetus Deletus
Summary: When it is unveiled that the Hyoudous are being targeted by wanted terrorists, it is up to Ghost to save them. He expected just another group of Ultranationalists. What he got was a supernatural world of magic, devils, angels, and catgirls hidden in plain sight. Magic or not, he wasn’t about to let the bastards run without a leash.
1. The Beginning

"AMBUSH!" Lieutenant Simon Ghost Riley roared. The crack of gunfire was harsh against his ears, and he was forced to duck as bullets whizzed by his head at supersonic speed. He scowled at the enemy combatants to his left—they had a vantage point from a cliffside overlooking his current position.

His assault rifle snapped up and he fired three shots, killing two of the enemy mercenaries. Before their corpses could even fall to the ground, Ghost had already killed two more. Every shot was aimed precisely to kill, and every bullet met their mark with impossibly deadly accuracy.

"TARGETS! LEFT SIDE! LEFT SIDE!" His shouting was briefly acknowledged by the rest of Strike Team, but they had their hands full at the moment. The enemy was coming at them from all sides in a pincer attack, dividing Strike Team on either side. It was a good tactic, considering how skilled each member of the Task Force was; if two men from the 141 could take out an entire army base of steel by themselves, then dividing their manpower would be advisable.

Another bullet struck the dirt by Ghost's feet as he hurried to the right. He quickly identified the shooter and returned fire, dropping the target in one hit before shifting his aim to the right and shooting three more enemies. One of the mercenaries mounted an RPG on their shoulder and aimed at the Operator.

Ghost eyed the tango cautiously. Anticipating the shot, he was diving to the side before the rocket was even fired—even then, the warhead barely missed him, skimming past his shoulder at the speed of sound.

An explosion followed, and Ghost shielded his face to protect it from the blast. The operator fired a single shot in return, aiming for the tango's launcher rather than the tango himself. A colossal explosion followed, the rocket detonating on the bullet's impact, subsequently detonating other rockets on the mercenary's person. Men yelped as they were torn apart or thrown into the air from shrapnel and the force of the shockwave. A large chunk of the cliffside collapsed, bringing several tangos with it, making the ground shake.

With that, a large amount of the enemy force on the left side was taken out, relieving some of the Strike Team's stress. The balaclava-clad operator said nothing, running past the destruction and into cover, firing shots with marksman accuracy.

"Targets, three o'clock!"

"I've got em' in my sights!"

"He's down!"

"Target neutralized!"

"Changing mag!"

"Solid copy!"

"RPG! Get down!"

In all honesty, Ghost couldn't say that he _wasn't_ anticipating an ambush. Having dealt with these kinds of terrorists before, he knew what to expect from them. Unfortunately, his hunch had been proven correct.

Strike Team was only a small, temporary group of six operators from Task Force 141—an anonymous counterterrorist group of the greatest individually selected warriors on the planet. Each member had Special Operations experience prior to joining and had been the best of the best from their respective armies. In the 141, they had been trained for every situation, including this one. Each soldier had the abilities to hold out against an army by themselves should the event ever occur. If one could describe them, they would be described as _terrifying._

Recently, General Shepherd—the direct commander of Task Force 141—had secured intel detailing the information they needed for their latest operation. As a counterterrorist group, the 141 had been working tirelessly to track down and eliminate Vladimir Makarov, the leader of a terrorist group that has been involved in atrocities around the world. Human trafficking, mass genocide, bombing, money laundering, drug smuggling, robbery—you name it he's done it. Not long ago, things have gotten dicey with Makarov's latest stunt; a calculated attack on Zachaev International Airport that initiated a war between Russia and the US. It wasn't hard to tell that a lot of people wanted this man dead. As a matter of fact, he was the CIA's most wanted terrorist.

This was the reason Strike Team was here right now in the Caucasus Mountains. According to the intel, Makarov had only two safe-havens left on the planet, one of which was here. The other one was in Afghanistan, where Captain Price and Soap had been sent to deal with it.

Unfortunately, it would seem that Makarov's forces had been prepared.

Among the rapid pops and cracks of gunfire, Ghost heard a faint whistling coming from above. He didn't need to look to know what it was.

"They've got this area pre-sighted for mortar fire!" Scarecrow warned. The ground erupted around them as mortars came down sporadically in no particular order, tearing trees apart and reducing rocks to dust. At the end of the treeline, smoke grenades were being popped by the enemy.

It didn't take long for Ghost to deduce what was going on; the mortars were being used to soften and disorient the Strike Team, forcing them to move forward into the smoke and engage in CQB whilst also covering the enemy's own advances. It was a sound plan—or, at least it would have been, except for one thing: the 141 were _masters_ of CQB. Not only were the enemy using a smokescreen that would blind themselves, but they were forcing their own troops to fight against experts of close quarters combat and stealth. In layman's terms, the enemy just crippled themselves.

"Counterattack into the smoke! Push! Push! Push!" the lieutenant urged. Within seconds, the three other member of the frontal assault group were pushing against the enemy forces and into the smoke. The other two members, Sniper Team One, provided overwatch from afar, lying atop a small overhang in the distance.

The gunfire died down substantially as the team was hidden in the smoke cloud.

Ghost moved through the smoke fluidly, unheard and unseen like a speck of dust in the air. His stealthiness was matched only by his lethality, much like his moniker implied. His face was concealed behind an intimidating balaclava with a skull designed on it—a symbol of what he once was, and what he had become. It was funny to think that a couple decades back, the concept of killing would have made him queasy. Now, taking the life of another was as easy as breathing.

As he swept through the grove, he listened for the shouts of hostiles and their movements. One bullet at a time he struck them down, watching as their silhouettes lifelessly fell to the ground. His rifle grew hotter with each consecutive shot, and eventually the barrel was smoking.

The magazine clicked empty just as he rounded the base of a tree, and a hidden mercenary jumped at him with a combat knife. Ghost's training kicked in immediately; he dropped his rifle and let it hang from his shoulder, grasping the hostile's knife hand by the wrist and twisting to the side. The operator closed the distance and threw his elbow into the mercenary's face, shattering his nose. As the hostile faltered, Ghost wrapped his arm around the assailant's throat and yanked downward, smashing him into the ground. A swift stomp on the neck crushed the spine and the trachea, killing the mercenary in a brutal fashion. With that, the lieutenant reloaded his rifle and continued on.

On the other side of the grove, Roach was laying rounds into anything that moved. To people that didn't know him, Roach was a quiet and reserved guy who didn't like speaking when he didn't need to. In reality, Roach's larynx was damaged in battle back in 2011 when he went hand-to-hand with a particularly skilled Ultranationalist, effectively rendering him mute. Those who knew wondered if it was even legal for him to still be fighting. It probably wasn't.

As he pushed forward, Roach heard a group of voices, maybe five or six, shouting at each other in a panic. He grabbed a grenade and lobbed in their direction, and was rewarded by more panicked yelling.

"_GRENADE!_"

An explosion promptly followed, tangos screaming as they were torn apart by the shrapnel. A series of rapid footsteps alerted Roach to an incoming straggler and he pulled a knife from his vest before throwing it into the smoke.

"_Augh!_"

A body tumbled through the smoke a moment later, landing at the operator's feet. The mute pulled the knife from the skull of the corpse and moved on, taking a moment to check his ammo.

Nearby, Ozone and Scarecrow dodged between trees methodically as they put rounds into enemy forces. A yell sounded out from behind them, and Ozone whipped around to see a tango coming at him with the butt of an empty rifle. The American shot the mercenary in the chest with a single round, but it wasn't enough to put the hostile down. The tango surged forward, intent on bashing the operator on the head, but Ozone blocked the strike by holding his own rifle horizontally before pushing the weapon to the side, making the mercenary stumble. Ozone grabbed the mercenary by the vest and turned around just in time to block two shots from another one.

Scarecrow fired at the shooter, killing him in two shots before positioning himself behind Ozone, using the tango from earlier as a shield. They made a short distance until the smoke began to clear up, at which point they ditched the body and ran for cover.

Not a moment too soon and a barrage of bullets were coming their way, chipping at the rock they crouched behind. Roach slid up behind them, giving them a short wave of the hand as he approached.

"Nice of you to join the party, Roach," Ozone quipped. He peeked over the boulder for a second, ducking back down with wide eyes. "RPG!"

The American operator dove to the ground, prompting the others to do the same as the boulder was blown to smithereens.

Grunting silently, Roach pulled himself to a crouch and took aim at the RPG, only for their head to suddenly explode into gory bits. The operator blinked.

"_Tango down. Strike Team we've got you covered up until you get to the target building, gonna have some fun up here,_" came Archer's voice over the radio.

Roach nodded—mostly because he couldn't verbally communicate in any way, shape, or form—before glancing to his right, catching sight of Ghost entering from god-knows-where.

The mute hurried over to his commanding officer, taking cover behind another tree. He gave the lieutenant a quizzical look, even as more bullets ripped the environment apart around them.

"I've been cleaning house if that's what your asking—" Ghost tilted his head to the side, "Ozone! Tango at your three o'clock!"

"Target sighted!"

The lieutenant looked back at the Sergeant. "Let's move, Roach. . . Go! Go! Go! Covering fire!" Then he rushed off into battle.

The four frontline operators fanned out, each one pushing forward in tandem with one another. Makarov's forces started panicking as they fell apart, but it was too late. Those who retreated were taken out by Sniper Team One while any remaining fighters were swiftly and efficiently neutralized by Strike Team.

"_Shit, where are they? I can't see them—Agh!_"

"_Victor? Damn it! Man down—Ugh!_"

"_Alex! Oh hell, I'm out of here—Gah!_"

"_We need reinforcements—Ack!_"

...

"That's the last of em'," Ozone reported.

Ghost nodded his approval. In a battle of six against sixty, the 141 managed to completely eliminate the other side in _two minutes_. Terrifying indeed.

"Copy. Converging on the target building now." As they approached the safehouse—an admittedly fabulous looking two-story log cabin—Ghost spotted two trucks leaving the lot. "Don't let those trucks get away!"

"_Roger. Sniper Team One firing javelins, danger close._"

"Copy that, danger close. Everyone get away from the road!" Ghost shouted. The operators positioned themselves to the side of the road and watched the spectacle. Just as it seemed that the trucks were escaping, two javelin missiles came screaming down from above. The missiles impacted, and the trucks were turned into burning piles of scrap metal.

"_Be advised, we have not, I repeat, we have not spotted Makarov, and no one else has left the house. Those trucks may have been decoys. Over,_" Archer informed.

Ghost nodded to himself. "Copy that, advancing on the house now. Clear the perimeter!"

Several mercenaries began surrounding the house, taking defensive positions as the operators approached. As the battle started up again, Ghost couldn't shake the sudden feeling of foreboding that he got. Something big was coming, but what? His gut told him that he didn't want to find out.

VVVVV

"Clear!"

Breach and clear had been quick, clean, and brutal. Strike Team went room to room, taking the house by storm. They took the first floor first, then moved on to the basement, finishing with the second floor. Makarov's men didn't stand a chance in hell.

By the time the last room was cleared, the team realized that Makarov himself was nowhere to be found. This meant that the bastard was either in Afghanistan—something they all hoped—or the intel was off.

Now, there was nothing left to do but collect information and contact command.

Strike Team rallied on the first floor while Sniper Team One watched from a distance, making sure that nobody snuck up on the operators inside.

Ghost was waiting with rifle pointed to the floor in a relaxed position when the others arrived. Once they did, he nodded towards Scarecrow.

"Scarecrow, photographs."

"Copy that, sir." Scarecrow pulled out a small, fist-sized camera and wandered around the house, taking pictures of anything that looked important. As he did so, Ghost activated his communications headset, taking a lazy stance. The rest of his team waited patiently, walking around the room and looking over anything that seemed interesting.

"Shepherd, this is Ghost. No sign of Makarov, I repeat, no sign of Makarov. Captain Price, any luck in Afghanistan?"

There was silence for a second before a gruff, battle-hardened voice spoke through the comms. It was Price. "_Plenty...at least fifty hired guns here, but no sign of Makarov. Perhaps our intel was off._"

Ghost snorted. "Well, the quality of the intel is about to change. This safehouse is a bloody goldmine."

Another deeper, scratchier voice came online—General Shepherd. "_Copy that. Ghost, have your team collect everything you can for an operations playbook. Names, places, everything._"

"We're already on it sir. Makarov will have nowhere to run."

"_That's the idea. Shepherd out._"

Price hummed into the radio. "_Ghost, we've got more tangos arriving on scene. Soap and I are going to go radio silent for a while. Good luck up there in Russia. Price out._"

Ghost stood idly for a moment. Makarov definitely wasn't going to let them out scot-free. There were probably enemy forces coming to stop them right now.

"Roach, start the download, Ozone cover the kitchen. Makarov's men will do whatever they can to stop us from leaving here alive. We need to hold until the download finishes. Defensive positions, let's go!"

The operators nodded, going off to do their jobs. Whether it was intentional or a mistake, Makarov had left a computer with a fuck-ton of information to download. Hopefully it would give the 141 the edge they needed to take him out.

Ghost was about to set up near the front entrance when Scarecrow called to him through the radio.

"_Ghost, there's something you need to see in the basement._" His voice was low and urgent.

For some reason, the feeling of foreboding doubled.

"Copy, on my way—this better be important Scarecrow." He turned to the only other person in the room. "Roach, cover the entrance."

Roach gave him a thumbs up as he walked past. Burning with anticipation, he spotted Scarecrow standing near an open door in the basement. The lieutenant followed him into the room, and his eyes widened at what he saw.

He whistled appreciatively, "Bloody hell, look at all this."

There was everything here, possibly even more than what was on the computer. The far wall was covered in maps, graphs, printed and written documents, pictures, and more.

Ghost froze upon seeing one particular name among the hundreds of papers on the wall.

Amelia Hyoudou.

...Oh _hell no_.

His heart dropped and the feeling of foreboding turned into a suffocating dread that was determined to choke him.

"Impossible," he muttered. Nobody should know of that name. Hell not even Shepherd or Soap knew that name, how the hell did Makarov get hold of it!?

He tore the document from the wall, skimming it over with frantic eyes. It was a capture order for five million US dollars.

'_Amelia. Issei._' The dread became rage, and Ghost _growled_.

He failed to protect them the first time, and they paid the consequences. When they needed him most, he hadn't been there...now they were gone. Because of him, they were lost forever.

Now it was happening again—but this time, it was a fucking game, and for five million, people will definitely come to play it.

Ghost almost tore Scarecrow to shreds in his anger when he put a hand on the lieutenant's shoulder.

"Sir? Ghost!?"

"We have to go."

"What?"

Ghost whipped around, and Scarecrow recoiled at the burning hatred in the operator's eyes. Malice seemed to pour out of them, even through the reflective sunglasses that the lieutenant wore.

"We have to go! NOW!"

Scarecrow was taken aback. "But what about the mission?"

"Fuck the mission! I've got to—"

"_Archer to Ghost, you've got a massive army of unknowns converging on your location! SHIT! They're attacking! Get the hell out of—_"

The very foundations of the house were shaken as the building was bombarded by explosions. Dust fell from the ceiling and tables and chairs tumbled over. The operators nearly lost balance and had to use the walls to support themselves.

The wooden beams that held the basement up creaked under the pressure, and Ghost swore he could hear the house groaning. The beams splintered, and the shaking got even worse.

"Archer! What the _hell_ is going on up there!?" Ghost demanded, steadying himself.

A large piece of the ceiling collapsed, forcing Scarecrow to jump out of the way.

"_Strike Team get out of there! The building is on the verge of collapse!_" Archer warned.

Ghost and Scarecrow met eyes.

"GO! GO! MOVE YOUR ASS!" The lieutenant shoved the man through the door, following behind at a break-neck pace. Pieces of the ceiling collapsed around them as they ran, their weapons dangling from their straps.

They reached the rear exit and dove out just as the rest of the building collapsed behind them. A massive cloud of dust and debris was sent hundreds of meters into the air, and a roaring fire burst from the remains of the house.

The shockwave sent the two flying much farther than they intended, and they tumbled down the hillside in a Hollywood style fashion. They stopped at the base of a lake where a small shed had been built to house a canoe.

Ghost groaned as he shakily pulled himself to his feet. He looked around and saw Scarecrow sprawled out on his left, grunting in pain.

He walked over and helped the man to his feet before looking back at the remains of the house. There was nothing left save for a few sections of walls and support beams that still stood strong among a pile of flaming debris.

Ghost inwardly cursed. All of the evidence was gone. All of the plans, the maps, the documents—everything.

He pressed a finger to his headset. "Ozone do you copy?"

After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, Ozone replied.

"_Roach and I are green...we've got the DSM_."

The lieutenant sighed in relief. They were okay, AND they managed to get the downloaded intel. He looked at Scarecrow, who gave him a thumbs up.

"Copy that, Scarecrow and I are green as well." He glanced back at the house. "Archer, what's the situation?"

"_Ghost, we've got an entire army of unknowns converging on your position. They don't seem to be using any weapons but regardless they've got to be packing some heavy weaponry to have done that damage,_" the sniper sighed exasperatedly, "_Sir we don't have enough time for exfil to get here, and the safe house is a lost cause. We've gotta bail._"

Archer was right. With the safe house gone there was no point in sticking around. There was no cover anywhere, and with the amount of heat the unknowns were packing, Ghost wasn't sure if cover would even help. The best choice was to leave, but there was nowhere to go, unless...

"All teams abort mission. Rally in the field on the west side of the house. I saw a jeep we can use to get out of here—I'll try to get it up and running. Everyone move it, double time!"

VVVVV

The truck jumped again as it hit another bump in the terrain. All of the operators bounced uncomfortably, grumbling in irritation. There were only five seats, but there six of them, so one of them had to sit in the trunk. If the situation weren't so grim, someone might have pointed out how awkward they all looked, what with all of their differing appearances.

Ghost was the most intimidating looking. As always, he wore his prized balaclava with a pair of tactical sunglasses and a communications headset. Sitting on his lap was his ACR—the most versatile assault rifle in his opinion—modified to his liking. If it wasn't obvious enough, the man was a Brit.

In the passenger's seat sat Archer, one of the British snipers clad in a full-body ghillie suit. If he was being honest, sitting in this damn thing was getting uncomfortable really fast. It was hot and itchy, two things that he really didn't like, especially in tandem with one another.

In the second row of seats sat Ozone, Toad, and Scarecrow. Ozone sat on the left, and, being an American wore nothing on his head but a cap that had the US flag sewn onto it.

Scarecrow, the other American, wore something a bit more conspicuous than anyone else. Protecting his head was the traditional ballistic helmet, but with a camouflaged net draped over it that shadowed his face. If people didn't know him better they would have called him a creep for wearing it.

Toad, the second British sniper, wore identical clothing to Archer, save for a small difference in color.

In the trunk of the jeep, Roach laid on the floor, deep in thought. His usual get-up was the generic undesignated tactical headgear with a pair of tactical goggles and a balaclava.

Most people had an odd relationship with Roach. Instead of learning sign language, he developed a series of meaningful gestures that _somehow_ communicated his thoughts and feelings.

To this day, he could make a solid argument with someone just from shrugging his shoulders or making faces. It was interesting to say the least.

For a short while, nobody spoke, the only sound being the hum of the engine as the vehicle sped down the mountain. The atmosphere wasn't really tense per se, just awkward in that nobody had anything to say. At some point, someone finally cleared their throat with a little too much zeal.

It turned out to be Ozone who was unconsciously fiddling with his rifle. "So...uh, shouldn't we contact command? I don't think the situation can get much worse."

As if on cue, the radio channel was suddenly filled with chatter.

"_Come in, Ghost!_" Price demanded through the comms. The sound of gunfire and explosions were prevalent in the background.

"Ghost checking in. What's happening?"

"_Ghost, we're under attack by Shepherd's men in the boneyard! Soap, hold the left flank! Do not trust Shepherd! I say again, DO NOT TRUST SHEPHERD! SOAP! Get down!_"

...

...

The sound of static resonated throughout the jeep as the operators gaped in complete shock. Nobody even flinched when Ghost slammed his foot against the breaks. There was nothing but silence as each man took their time to process what the fuck just happened.

"Ozone you fucking jinxed it!" Scarecrow roared.

But as the realization set in, everything else was blocked out. All of the other operators faded into the background as the world turned gray around him. His vision became faded and all other thoughts were forgotten.

Ghost took slow, deep breaths in a vain attempt to calm the rage that bubbles beneath his skin.

So that's it then, huh? That's what the general had planned?

His grip on the steering wheel tightened and his gloved knuckles turned white. It had happened again. How long would this _torment_ go on before it ceased? After all he'd done, after all the 141 had gone through, going to every corner of the world, scouring every patch of dirt to end the war on terror, fighting through tundras and deserts, skies and oceans, overland and underground, through fire and ice. After sacrificing parts of their humanity, losing friends and family, becoming cold hard killing machines for the greater good. After _he_ lived through months of brainwash and torture, after _he_ was buried alive with the rotting corpses of his comrades, after _his_ family was slaughtered before _his_ eyes, after _he_ was framed and branded a monster to the public, after faking _his_ death and taking on the name _Ghost_ to get revenge, and after dedicating the rest of _his_ mind, body, and soul on nothing but the destruction of evil. _This_ is how General Shepherd repays them!?

At that moment Ghost wanted to do nothing more than rip and tear that bastard to _fucking_ _oblivion_. He wanted to see and feel the pain that he would inflict on his body. He wanted to raise hell on any of the degenerate fuck-wits that dared stand in his way. He wanted to kill.

His rage radiated off of his body, and right now he was possibly more furious than he'd ever been in the rest of his life combined. No amount of words could describe his bloodlust, and at that moment, something awakened inside him. Something never seen before. Something..._supernatural_.

But even with all the rage he felt, he faltered at the feeling of pain in his heart. The pain of being turned on once again by someone he thought he could trust. The pain of his whole world crumbling around him again. The rage left him and his shoulders sagged. His eyes grew cold and his arms began to shake as a tear welled up in his eyes. His head pounded and his body felt weak as the demons came crawling back to the surface.

He hated it. He hated this feeling of weakness, the pain that never seemed to stop. How could he live like this? His entire life had been nothing but an emotional nightmare. He was nothing without his skills and reflexes. Just a scared man running from his tragic past. Why was it always him!? Why was fate always fucking him in the throat!? What did he do to deserve this...?

He glared hatefully into the steering wheel as he made a decision. He vowed that no matter what, Shepherd would—he froze, remembering the documents from the house.

A wave of emotions passed through him as he remembered everything. How could he have forgotten something so important!? As much as he wanted to rip Shepherd's head off his shoulders, he couldn't right now. He didn't have time for it. He would have to trust his squad to get the deed done because _Amelia and Issei were in trouble._

And just like that, the colors came flowing back.

Ghost was broken out of his thoughts when Archer shook his shoulder. He looked over at the ghillie-suit-clad sniper and saw the concerned look in his eyes.

"Sir, are you alright?" The rest of the Strike Team, who had been quarreling amongst themselves in the back, quieted down to listen to the exchange. "We've been sitting ducks for a whole three minutes."

Ghost looked over his squad before he sighed to himself. He let go of the breaks and the jeep started moving again. "No...no, I'm not."

Scarecrow stared at him meaningfully through the rearview mirror.

"Have you ever believed in someone? Looked up to them and maybe even aspired to be like them? Have you ever truly trusted someone, and thought that they'd have your back no matter what? Then, when you think that everything's fine and dandy, they take that trust and snap its spine in half right in front of your face?"

Silence.

"Yeah...that happened three times to me. I'm not gonna go into too much detail. Just know that this ain't the first time I've been thrown under the bus...Scarecrow, you wanted to know why I had to leave?"

He watched through the rear-view mirror as Scarecrow nodded slowly.

"Well...I've got someone important to me. They're all I have after the bastards took everything else...And now? Now, Makarov's going after them."

There was visible shock among the operators.

"Why?" Ozone asked.

"That's what I'm trying to find out. I've got no fucking clue how he knows about them. Not even Shepherd knows, and that bastard knows pretty much everything...Look, mates, I was torn between going after Shepherd and saving them, but I think you know which one's more important to me. I'm going after them, but I need you boys to link up with Price and Soap to tear the general a new one."

Toad was flabbergasted. "You can't do it alone mate! You know what kind of man Makarov is. If he's doing it to draw you out specifically, he'll probably have a whole army behind him just to take you out! What then?"

Ghost breathed heavily. "Then I'll kill them all with my bare bloody hands if I have to. I don't want to rope any of you into this. This one's personal, gents."

Toad groaned and threw up his arms in annoyance. "C'mon mate, you're our squad leader, you know better than that. At least one of us, just to watch your back."

"Yeah," Archer agreed. "Someone that won't fuck you over. Someone unlike Ozone."

Scarecrow snorted even as Ozone jumped to defend himself. "Hey!"

Scarecrow nodded, "I agree-"

"Fuck off."

"-as a matter-of-fact, I think you should take Roach." Said mute perked up at that. "For one, he's the quietest out of all of us dickheads, he can get the job done if you ask, and—correct me if I'm wrong—but I think that the two of you get along better than anyone else in the Task Force except for maybe you and Captain McTavish."

Ghost opened his mouth to retort but paused. Honestly, what was the issue? Sure, it was personal, but what's to say he couldn't bring a friend? Ghost could definitely attest that Roach was capable of taking care of himself on the battlefield. The two of them were also very good friends, enough for Ghost to trust the mute with his life.

Trust...

The lieutenant shook his head, sighing deeply. Roach was different. He _knew_ Roach. The man wasn't like that. He wouldn't do it. "Roach? You in or out?"

The mute in question adopted a curious thinking pose. A moment later he shrugged and gave a thumbs up, signifying his decision. For some reason, that made Ghost feel a bit lighter.

"...Thanks, mate." He sighed again before a stray thought came to his mind. "Say, Archer."

"Hm?" Archer glanced over.

"What attacked us back there? You mentioned that those blokes didn't look like Makarov's men."

Archer's eyes had a confused squint before widening in realization. "Yeah! About that. They didn't look like any soldiers I've ever seen," he mused. "They looked like a bunch of cultists, wearing these dark robes—they didn't seem to carry any weapons either. I think a few of em' raised their hands, and suddenly the whole place lights up like the Eiffel Tower on Christmas Day." He licked his lips. "Next thing I know, you've got a barrage of fireballs coming your way."

Toad twitched. "I saw it too. I thought I was going loony for a bit there. Just seemed like something straight out of Harry Potter...Actually, I think I've got some footage on the shoulder cam." He took a minute to remove said camera, tossing all the threads of his ghillie suit out of the way. Once he rolled the footage back, Ozone and Scarecrow leaned over while Roach loomed precariously from the trunk.

The footage was a bit blurry, but there was a clear image of some figures in the distance. The figures crawled along the screen at a snail's pace and the camera shifted a few times during the video. The footage played for a bit longer until Archer gave his warning from before, and a bright light engulfed the center of the screen.

Not a second later the light died down to reveal several projectiles flying towards the house. They didn't leave smoke trails, so they weren't RPGs—but they did have a large amount of firepower, as evidenced when they exploded on impact. The video continued, playing everything that had happened earlier, cutting off when Toad's recorded image stood up, presumably to get to the jeep.

"Ho-ly shit," Ozone breathed. His astonishment was shared by everyone who had watched the video.

"I don't believe it. How the hell did they do that? I've never seen rockets like those," Scarecrow said.

"That's cause they're not rockets, dumbass. Your teacher ever teach you about context clues? Archer calls em' fireballs and Toad references some wizard shit—it's fucking magic!"

"Bullshit, magic ain't real—if it were we wouldn't be in this mess."

"Then how do you explain a bunch of dudes in robes coming out of nowhere and wrecking our shit with their bare hands from across the damn forest?"

"Regardless," Ghost cut in, "of whether its some fairy tale hocus pocus or not, we've got another threat to deal with. They might be a third party or they could be under Makarov's wing. We need to be prepared for them, whatever the case."

Toad's face scrunched up in confusion. "If these are Makarov's men, then why weren't they the ones guarding his safe house?"

"Maybe they're an auxiliary army of some sort—Makarov wasn't hiding in either of the safehouses after all."

As the boys delved back into their arguments, Ghost took a moment to himself to think up a plan.

At the rate they were traveling, they'd arrive in Armenia in a little over eight hours. It was likely that Shepherd had tagged all cellular devices in that specific country to locate them, which meant no cell phones. He wasn't sure about locating a pay phone either.

They'd also need to secure transportation...looks like some bloke was about to get their private jet stolen...sucks for them.

The Strike Team would be dropped off somewhere in Afghanistan—they could contact Price on a different radio channel to find a good spot. Ghost and Roach, however, would proceed to Japan and attempt an emergency landing somewhere...

The plan was a little spotty but they were on a bit of a time crunch. Ghost only had one day to get there, and he wasn't even sure of that anymore.

There were those wizard guys too or whatever. At this point, Ghost wasn't willing to take chances, and if magic was indeed real, this may be a lot harder than he thought. Whatever, right now he needed to just focus on driving.

Unnoticed by all of them, small white wisps of pure life-energy briefly rolled off of Ghost's skin, even as a much darker power began to manifest on the inside.

With the tidal wave of emotions that had crashed over him in such a small period of time, it was only a matter of time...


	2. Attack

There were probably a thousand little things that Amelia Hyoudou loved about life. There were definitely a good many things she didn't like about it either. But if there was one thing that she felt was the most important in life, it was family.

_"K-Kaachan!?"_

_"Run, Amelia!"_

Back then, when she was only a little kit, everything had been simple. Her mother had been such a caring individual, sometimes too much for her own good. It only made Amelia love her mother more, even with her own skewed upbringing.

The thing is, Amelia never met her so-called father. She never intended to meet him either, not after she heard what he did. Turns out her father had taken advantage of her mother when she was drunk one time, inevitably creating Amelia. It was kind of sad when she thought about it and it was definitely irresponsible, but what was done was done. To her, it didn't really matter since her mother cared for her like any good mother would.

_There were tons of them. Scary men with large bat-like wings. Devils._

_They were surrounding her. Surrounding Kaachan._

Amelia's mother was possibly the strongest person she ever knew. She had been very learned in the arts of Senjutsu and Youjutsu, but that was a given since she was a nekoshou. When Amelia got older she started learning the arts herself. Her mother had been very proud—Amelia was a natural.

Her mother would always pat her head or rub her feline ears lovingly. It was one of the things that Amelia enjoyed the most, and it was probably one of the things that reminded her of her mother the most as well.

_"This is where you die, filth!"_

_The monster swung its blade down, unrelenting and unforgiving in its attack. She did nothing to stop it in her exhaustion. As the blade came down, she looked over at her little kit and smiled one last time. That smile held everything she felt for the past ten years, everything she was. All of their trials and tribulations together, all of their moments together, every time she had patted her head in adoration and pure __unadulterated affection._

_And as the blade reached the point of no return, her tears began to flow as she remembered holding her baby in her arms the day she had been born, and how she grew up so fast._

_"I love you."_

_The blade descended._

_"KAACHAN!"_

But then, the devils came. Amelia never knew why the came, nor what they were searching for. All she knew was that she _killed_ that day. Her childish innocence had been stripped away in the face of danger, and in her hatred, she slaughtered them like they did her mother. After that, she cried and ran, never looking back.

She never even got to say goodbye.

For several years she lived on the streets, minding her own business and only ever stealing if she absolutely had to. With what little strength she had left at the end of each day, she would practice her arts as her mother taught her.

She didn't know how long she ran, but eventually, she was eighteen and had secured a small semi-permanent living space. With no skills beyond her strength, speed, and magic, she had only one choice.

For two years she worked as an adult entertainer, using her natural beauty to her advantage. She didn't sell her body mind you, she only showed it off. Her mother never would have forgiven her if she stooped that low.

Somehow, Amelia was _very_ popular with the guys. When she walked into the club, they would cheer for her, and every other entertainer would become irrelevant. She literally stole the spotlight from everyone else, and as a result, the other entertainers were understandably irritated with her. She didn't mind though.

When she was leaving the club once, she stumbled upon a little eight-year-old boy who wore nothing but rags in tatters. The boy was barely hanging on by a thread, his energy signature barely there. She looked around at the people who were left the club and watched as they either gazed at her with lust-filled eyes or winked at her, but never did they care to look at the dying boy.

It reminded Amelia of herself, in that she had been completely alone when she was younger, and nobody was willing to give her a hand. What happened next solidified her decision to take the boy in.

_Her heart wrenched as she stared at the dying boy, her hands covering her mouth in astonishment. She never noticed the large, beef-head of a man sneak up behind her until an arm clasped her shoulder._

_"Hey gorgeous, wanna come back to my place, I've got a–"_

_"H-help me," the helpless boy whimpered, his body shivering in the chilly air of the night._

_The man growled and _kicked _the boy. Amelia's eyes widened further._

_"Quiet brat, can't you see that this nice lady is too good for the likes of you? Ain't that right, Ombre-sama?"_

_Her fists clenched as the boy began to cry. "Get...away from HIM!"_

_She whipped around and punched the idiot with enough force to send him flying into the side of a nice looking sports-car. The __side-door crumbled under the impact and the windows shattered even as the car skidded back a few feet, sparks flying everywhere. She hoped that it was the jerk's car._

_Amelia turned to the boy who flinched away in fear. Seeing his shaking form, her eyes softened and she let a small smile come to her face._

_"I'm not gonna hurt you...What's your name?"_

_"...I-Issei."_

_"Issei, huh. What a nice name. Why don't you come with me? I'll take good care of you, so you don't have to worry."_

_"R-really?"_

_"Yep, and I'll keep away all the bad men who want to hurt you, is that okay?"_

_"O-okay!"_

With Issei by her side, the days grew less demeaning and painful. Intending to become a proper motherly figure, she pushed past the embarrassment of her job and embraced it fully, if only to secure the funds for them to live on.

As time went on, the two of them grew closer, and Issei started seeing her as a mother rather than just a caretaker. It made her heart swell with pride. It also made Amelia realize what she had been missing all of these years; the love and affection of a real family. In her isolation, she never knew how big of an effect her loneliness had on her, but now she knew. And she was happy.

Eventually, Issei started doing jobs part-time, jumping around from place to place. Everything was going better than ever had in a long time.

Everything was as normal as could be for a full-time stripper and a part-time work-boy. But then, fast forward a few years, and things get strange.

One day, a man named Simon Riley showed up at her house, claiming to be her older brother.

Of course, she was skeptical at first, especially since the man always wore a mask with a skull designed on it—she taught herself to be cautious around strange-looking men—but when she heard the man's story she broke into tears.

Simon Riley used to have a poverty-stricken family growing up, with a horrible, abusive father—the very same one Amelia never met. One day, at the age of sixteen, after the September 11 attacks, he decided to join the British Army, and eventually the SAS.

He came home sometime during his career one day to find that his family was still doing as bad as it was when he left. Instead of returning to the military, he stayed and fixed everything up. He took care of his depressed mother and his drug addict of a brother, and they got better.

He went back to the military after that, but not all was well.

Simon was the best soldier the SAS had, but being the best didn't mean invincible. On a mission gone awry, Simon was betrayed by his commanding officer and he and his squad members were tortured and brainwashed for months. They were forced to fight each other day after day, and eventually, the enemy got sick of them and decided to bury Simon alive with the corpses of his teammates.

That wasn't the worst of it though. Not even close.

When he returned home after escaping, he arrived to find that his brainwashed allies had slaughtered the family he fought so hard to fix. That was the second time he had been betrayed. That was the day Simon Riley died, and Ghost was born. It was the day he donned his symbol of death and retribution and would forever wear it in his conquest against evil.

After that, Ghost went off to get revenge and succeeded, tearing an entire drug cartel to the ground singlehandedly. But after all of that, he was alone. He couldn't live like that and soon he would go insane from the reality of the situation. He did some research, some hacking here and there, and finally found her relation to him.

Amelia couldn't say no to him after that, and for the first and last time, Ghost had wept. Amelia could definitely sympathize—even to this day she would remember her mother sometimes and cry a bit.

What happened next surprised both her and Issei. Instead of letting them live on as they had in that shitty old apartment building, he bought them a large, fully-furnished two-story house at the very edge of Kuoh. On top of that, he provided the funds for them to sustain themselves, and even the chance for Issei to get an education.

He did all that he could to fix them up, just like he did for his old family. It made Amelia see what kind of person Ghost was. Under that cold, hard, badass exterior was a loving family man that would do anything for him and his.

It was none too soon before they all grew close, and she loved him—not because of all of these nice things he bought for them, but because of _why_ he did it. She loved him genuinely and fully, and he in return.

Now, she was happy as she could be. She had a loving family of a kickass brother named 'Ghost' and an amazing son that could pull through no matter what.

There were a few recent events that were rather worrying though. As a nekoshou that knew Senjutsu, she was fully in tune with all of the spiritual energy that surrounded her. It turns out that Issei had a sacred gear that may awaken soon.

Amelia never revealed the supernatural to either of her loved ones because she wanted to keep them safe. But if Issei were to awaken a sacred gear, then she would have to train him to the fullest so that he could protect himself. She just wasn't sure how her son would react to this knowledge.

When it came to Ghost, it was a special case. Ghost was already a hardcore soldier, one of the best in the world. He was actively hunting down terrorists globally, which was already a huge weight to carry in her opinion. She didn't want to burden him with the world of the supernatural, and while she thought he was perfectly capable of handling himself, he was still just a human, albeit the epitome of the human body.

Furthermore, a massive war was happening right now! Russia was going full-throttle on the United States at the moment, and she was sure that Ghost was doing his best to stop it. He was just too busy right now.

There was one thing to note though. Ghost's life energy was _impossibly_ difficult to spot, almost as if the man was _built_ for stealth. But when she found it, there was another thing there, some sort of power that wasn't quite a sacred gear, nor was it a bloodline power. It wasn't even a type of magic she had studied before.

She guessed that the emotional responses that Ghost had due to his tragic past were so unbelievably strong that he had created an ability from _sheer will and emotion alone__._ It was a bit terrifying, and if she was being honest, she kind of wanted to see what would happen if said ability awakened...

Speaking of the war, despite Japan being good allies with the US, Japan wasn't affected all that much. On the supernatural side of the spectrum, things were getting tense. There hasn't been any active engagement between any of the factions or pantheons, but that was bound to change soon enough.

Amelia looked into the mirror one last time as she got ready to turn in for the night. She felt a bit arrogant for thinking it, but when she stepped out of the house, she turned heads. Her former job as the most popular stripper in the city could definitely attest to that.

She was twenty-nine years old and had a heart-shaped face, arched eyebrows, and glowing almond-shaped amber eyes. Her skin was a gorgeous creamy white that was soft to the touch, yet toned at the same time. Her hair was breast length and a natural ombre black that faded into a bright, silvery pastel blue. Her nose was small and slim, and her lips were full. Her breasts were large, but not too large, and her belly was flat. Her hips widened the further down her body you traveled—but not too much. She had a modicum of gorgeous curves that were neither too much nor too little.

While her beauty wasn't necessarily a bad thing, it was both a blessing as well as a curse. If anyone was to blame, it was her mother for being so damn pretty.

On one hand, Amelia would unintentionally charm a few males into falling helplessly in love with her. She didn't like their attention though, and while some would respectfully back off, others would need a little bit of...encouragement. She didn't hurt them if that's what you're asking, just knocked them out...Okay maybe she broke a few teeth every once in a while, but it wasn't her fault that they were so persistent!

On the other hand, it was a definite confidence boost knowing that people appreciated your looks, even if some appreciated a bit too much.

She knew she wasn't the only one though. There were a few other supernaturals in town that she'd met, and they were good people. They also all happened to be handsome or gorgeous as a result of being supernaturals.

There was a female vampire that was happily married to a human male, there was a neutral werewolf that worked at one of her favorite cafes, and there was even a human magician that was studying abroad.

Despite what a lot of people may think about the supernaturals, they were really just normal people with fancy superpowers or extra body parts. Sure there were some of the pompous high-class bigots and there were definitely some stray devils and priests lurking around, but those in the human world generally lived normal lives.

Amelia eyed the pair of cat-like ears atop her head. Her twin tails swished lazily behind her, almost like they had a mind of their own. It wasn't often that she got to reveal her features, so she took any opportunity she could get. Right now was the most opportune time since Issei was finishing up his last week as a clerk at the local convenience store.

After finishing up in her bathroom, Amelia sat on the edge of her bed, briefly pondering how far she'd come since she was left alone. Issei had recently passed an entrance exam for a private school, Kuoh Academy, and was going to be attending in a month. She was totally on board with his decision except for one small tidbit of information.

Last she checked, the school was supposedly run by devils. Amelia wasn't one to be racist, but even so, she still had reservations about the whole thing since her experience with them hasn't been all that great. Granted, she only ever came across stray devils and that one group from her childhood, so she wasn't sure what to expect from a 'regular' devil.

The thought continued to linger as she turned off the bedside lamp and tucked herself into bed, yawning tiredly into her hand. It was raining outside, and the soft pitter-patter of the droplets against the glass sliding door of the balcony and roof put her in a trance. Slowly, her eyes drifted shut as she sank deeper into the soft mattress of the bed, already half-asleep...

...

...

Something was wrong.

She knew what it was before she even opened her eyes. Someone had triggered the magical alarm system set around the house that was used to warn her if anyone was on the property. Furthermore, someone with their own magic was outside her house.

Nothing happened for a few seconds, Amelia content to just lie there and enjoy how comfortable she was. Then she realized that yes, a potentially homicidal magic-user or users were loitering outside of her house right now. She didn't take kindly to that.

The nekoshou jumped out of bed and hurried to the balcony door, her thoughts running at a thousand miles per hour. Their life-energy indicated that they were humans, a group of about eight if she was correct. Only one of them seemed to have magic, which meant that one person was most likely a magician. The question was what they were doing outside her house and why.

Her enhanced eyesight allowed her to see through the rain and the darkness, and the sight was a little perturbing.

The first thing to note was the nondescript white van that was parked on the street in front of her house. It was a picture-perfect depiction of the one van that was stereotyped for giving out free candy and being used for human trafficking.

Even less welcome were the eight figures that were currently breaching and entering her property. Seven of the eight wore distinctive combat gear of different types, all of which were undesignated. Each had a gun in hand and a mask covering their face, be it a balaclava or a gas mask—presumably to help with the rain. The eighth member, however, despite wearing body armor and a mask, had no weapon on him. Amelia could only assume that he was the mage.

It didn't take a genius to figure out that these guys weren't here for a cup of tea. On the contrary, they looked prepped for war.

Did they come here to harm her and Issei? Or to take them away somewhere? The thought made her eyes narrow. Nobody was to hurt her family, not after everything she'd gone through to get here.

It pissed her off just seeing them, the possibility that they came here for the sole purpose of harming them being infuriating. She took a deep breath, drawing in the natural energy of her surroundings, subsequently producing a soft glow around her body. She held back a moan of pure _bliss._

It's been years since the last time she did that. Damn, did it feel good.

'_I could get used to doing that more often,_' the nekoshou mused, stepping out onto the balcony. The rain was cold and crisp against her warm skin, and she almost regretted coming outside. Welp, no time like the present.

She silently closed the door behind her, then climbed atop the balcony railing and settled in a crouch. The intruders were approaching the front door now. It was time to act.

She jumped from the balcony and flipped graciously, extending her right leg in an axe kick, aiming for the man in the middle.

"_Augh!_"

The gunman went face-first into the unforgiving concrete with a loud crack, the sidewalk shattering beneath his head. Before anyone even had time to think, Amelia planted both of her hands on the ground and kicked the nearest gunman forcibly, sending him flying in to one other before colliding with the side of the van, wrecking the door and shattering the windows.

Using the momentum from her kick, she spun on one hand and slammed the back of her foot against the gunman's face behind her, throwing him across the yard and into the fence.

If there was one thing that Ghost was better than her at, it was unarmed combat. While she was already strong in her own light, Ghost had taught her a ton of martial art techniques, completely oblivious to her nekoshou heritage. With his help, she was able to practice her Senjutsu in tandem with martial arts much more efficiently, eventually developing her own technique.

There were other things she had learned from Ghost as well. If it were not for him, Amelia would have severely underestimated the power of modern firearms. While she herself was very fast, mindbogglingly so, bullets were definitely _much __faster_. Thankfully, she could dodge them or block them, so she was prepared for anything that may come her way.

Her feet touched the ground and she lunged forward, eyeing the last four intruders. They moved in slow motion to her, but one of them managed to aim straight at her. She tilted her head to the side imperceptibly and watched as the bullet spiraled past, barely grazing her cheek.

By the time another shot was fired, she was already on the first man. He didn't stand a chance.

One strike to the chest and he was knocked into the air, flailing helplessly. Amelia rushed past him and delivered a knee to the second one's chin, breaking the jaw. The third one aimed at her and fired a single shot, hitting her square in the shoulder.

The nekoshou winced in pain as the lead bounced off of her skin, barely piercing it. She rushed the gunman, and a single chop to the throat was enough to put him down. Finally, she turned to the last man standing.

It was the magician.

"_Cyka Blyat!_"

With a panicked wave of his hands, all of the water in the surrounding area coalesced into a solid barrier in front of him. It was a good choice considering the downpour of rain at his disposal, but it wasn't enough.

Amelia's fist was coated in a blue aura as she punched through the barrier, shattering it and carrying on until it smashed against the mage's face, sending him into the ground. The pavement cracked as the human skidded across it, coming to a halt in the middle of the street.

He didn't get up.

...

The nekoshou stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do next. Was that it? The fight had been so quick and one-sided...Was she a little too harsh? These guys looked pretty buff, she was sure they could handle it. She honestly preferred not to kill anyone if she didn't absolutely have to. Life is a sacred thing—you only get one, and to have it be stripped away so suddenly is unfathomable.

Amelia idly glanced at her shoulder and saw that the skin where the bullet hit was a little bit red. She couldn't see if she was bleeding on account that the rain was washing it away, but if she was, then a small application of Senjutsu should be enough to fix it.

Slowly, the nekoshou made her way over to the downed mage. The human was laying facedown in the middle of the street, a pool of blood being washed away beneath him.

She stopped in front of his torso and reached down before flipping the man over. As she looked over his features, she grimaced in mild sympathy. Yep, definitely a broken nose.

The man's eyes were red, and he gave the nekoshou a tired glare. His body jerked suddenly as he coughed up some blood. How hard did she hit him?

Amelia shook her head in irritation. Now wasn't the time for that. For now, she would interrogate him, and try to see who sent them.

"Who are you—"

She gasped as the man grabbed her shoulder and squeezed tightly. Her eyes were wide with surprise as he slowly pulled himself to her level. He breathed heavily, heaving in and out massive gulps of air. His skin glowed with a soft sheen that grew increasingly brighter—wait, what?

"_For...the Inner Circle!_"

"Crap!"

She brought her arms up as quickly as she could, and a bright light enveloped her.

VVVVV

Issei tapped at the front counter tiredly. Why was he even still at work? It's raining cat's and dogs outside! Nobody was gonna come out here at this hour in this weather!

Glancing at the clock, the sixteen-year-old managed a small cheer when he saw that his shift was nearly over. Idly, his thoughts turned to school. In only month, he would be going to Kuoh Academy as a first-year, a prestigious former all-girls high school academy. A small smirk stretched across his face.

He had worked his ass off to get into the academy, and now he was reaping the rewards. Not only would he be getting a proper education, he would also get to have class with a bunch of chicks. Even if he was joining half-way through the school year—it's early August, so September would be the second semester—he would still be going to a school where he could accomplish his dream. A few scenarios played out in his head, some of which he was unashamed to describe as _more_ than devious.

What? Don't tell him that you've never fantasized about a girl before. Every male worth their salt has had at least one thought about it. Issei himself has gone on long enough to have a favorite body part.

Should anyone ever ask him what it was, he would answer tried and true, "Oppai!" He could sit there thinking about it all day, and nobody would change his mind.

With luck, maybe he could even get a girlfriend.

An earth-shattering boom shook him out of his thoughts.

"Gah!" he jumped in surprise, nearly falling over. Eyes wide in alarm, he peeked over the counter and through the store windows to see a massive fireball in the distance, a hundred meters tall. His jaw dropped in awe and fear, and he couldn't help but take a step back.

"Holy shit..." he muttered to himself. All he could do was stare in wonder, until he realized, "...That's my house!"

Kassan was still at home..."Fuck!"

Immediately, his mind was in overdrive. He vaulted over the counter and rushed out the storefront. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, and he couldn't help the worried glance at the large flames.

Could his mom have...? No. He purged the thoughts from his mind. He had to focus on getting over there and finding out what happened.

His legs started burning after five minutes of non-stop running. His clothes were also completely soaked, and he was almost blind from the rain. Why the hell did he get a job so damn far away from home!?

'_Because there was nothing else available dumbass!_' he screamed inwardly. People screamed as they ran past him, away from all the commotion. Sirens blared in the distance, and his worries intensified.

As he got closer to home, he could hear loud cracks and pops in the distance. The ground rumbled occasionally—more than it should. He didn't want to believe it, but he knew that those tremors weren't thunder. It was gunfire and explosions.

'_What the hell is going on!?_'

Issei bit the edge of his lip and glanced down at the secret pouch on his right hip. A few years back, his one and only Ojisan had given him a gift and told him to protect himself with it. The brunette spent weeks training with it and got quite good at using it. That training might be put to use tonight.

He slipped the pouch open and pulled the gift out, revealing a Glock 19. Ojisan had it custom made to maximize the effectiveness of 115 grain JHP rounds, perfect for stopping a man dead in his tracks. The weapon had a bit of a kick, but that was more of a problem with the amount of powder rather than the gun itself. Since there were no railings, the rear sight was replaced with a red-dot reflex sight, which made it much easier to aim.

Grabbing the pistol, Issei flicked the safety off and cocked it, chambering one round from the 15-round magazine. A moisture sealant on each cartridge prevented the rain from messing with rounds, allowing them to work in this specific weather. There was nothing that could be done about the wind though. He'd just have to adjust his shots—that is, if he ever actually needs to fire the gun.

After another minute, the brunette finally arrived on scene, and he froze mid-step at what he saw.

Dozens of men littered the streets, all of whom faced away from him. Their clothes all differed in shapes and sizes—some wore nothing but robes despite the weather, others wore nothing but vests, and some even looked to be wearing tactical gear. Some of them had guns, others had large staves, or even swords. Some weilded nothing at all.

Issei took a step back in fear. His heart thumped in his chest, filled with anxiety. The crack of gunfire was deafening, and he flinched at the sound.

Who the fuck were these people!? Why were they in front of his house!?

His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and his jaw hit the floor when one of the robed men shot a fucking _fireball_ from his bare hands. Issei's eyes trailed after the projectile, and impossibly, his eyes widened even further when he saw the intended target.

A figure coated in a blue, flaming aura that shined as bright as a star. The figure moved faster than he could track, dodging between fireballs, bullets, shards of ice, giant rocks, and more, tearing through men with ease and enough force to shatter the pavement below it. Like a rocket, it zipped back and forth across the battlefield, sending men through the walls of surrounding houses or lampposts, leaving massive holes or dents.

In seconds, a dozen men had already fallen, and Issei only stared in awe and wonderment. The figure was so smooth and elegant with it's movements, almost as if it was dancing. Each one of its strikes shook the earth, and Issei had to bend his knees to keep balance. The brunette was forced to react when a man came flying at him like a freight train.

"_Oi!_"

After dodging the 'attack', Issei steadied himself to see that one of the men had noticed him.

"Shit!"

In a panic, he fired a single round at the man. It missed completely. The man retaliated, aiming at him with a large assault rifle.

Issei ran for cover behind a jeep—probably one of the men's—barely surviving by the skin of his teeth as a spray of bullets ripped through the hood of the vehicle, traveling all the way through and hitting the ground. His heart almost stopped from the sheer terror of getting hit. Had it not been raining at this ungodly hour, Issei had no doubt that the man would have hit him.

Breathing heavily, he looked around for anything that could help him. Looking up at the jeep, he saw the man who had shot at him through the side-door mirror. The man was slowly creeping around the jeep, and would surely take him out. What to do, what to do...

An idea popped into mind, simple as it was. Issei looked under vehicle and saw a pair of feet on the other side. He took aim and fired a single shot. The bullet shattered the man's ankle, and he cried out in pain—not that anyone could hear him over the sound of rapid gunfire from the ongoing battle around them. He fell to the ground, exposing his head.

Issei pulled the trigger.

BANG!

The man stopped moving. The implications of what he had just done quickly sunk into Issei's mind. He had just killed someone. A living, breathing human being that was just like him. Darkness crept around the corners of his vision, and bile rose in his throat.

He forced it back down, reminding himself that the man had attacked first. He was totally justified in this situation, right?

"Goddammit," Issei whispered to himself. He took a shaky breath, and instead of getting up, crawled to the front of the jeep. He reached forward slowly, hoping that nobody would see him. In an instant he snatched the rifle from the ground, fumbling with it in his hands. It was very obvious what the weapon was—he saw it plenty of times in media.

It was a classic AK-47, a powerful assault rifle used mostly by Russia and many third-world countries. It chambered 7.62x39mm rounds, powerful enough to go through brick walls and cars. As a result, it probably had a ton of recoil...

Issei took a deep breath. He needed to find Kassan. Steeling himself, the brunette stood in a crouch and slowly walked to the other side of the vehicle. Peeking around he saw that most of the... enemies? The enemies were still focused on engaging the blue blur. He was still shocked to see men throwing fireballs and things like that.

It had to be magic. As far as he knew, people didn't just up and create fire or ice unless it was magic or something of the like. He's read enough manga to know how it works, generally speaking.

"_Andrei? Shit, man down!_"

One of the enemies suddenly turned towards the jeep Issei his behind. The man ran over to the other side, checking something on the ground.

'Crap!' he panicked, '_They__ found the body! I need to move before they find me!_'

The brunette sat there for a few moments more, waiting for the right timing...now! With the man facing away from him, Issei sprinted to the next vehicle—a van. From there on was a short line of vehicles. He snuck behind each one, taking care not to attract anyone's attention.

Once he got to the last vehicle—a truck—he peeked into the trunk and nearly choked. Someone left a fucking six-shot grenade launcher here, fully locked and loaded!

He couldn't help the small bubble of excitement in his chest as he gripped the weapon firmly, letting the AK-47 rest at his side. He found that the launcher was much lighter than he had been expecting, maybe twenty pounds.

"_AHHH!_" a man screamed as he flew over Issei's head, smashing through the window of someone's vacant house. Startled, Issei looked back at the carnage unfolding before him. He did so at the wrong time.

Several enemies were looking in his direction, likely because they were watching the guy who flew through the window. One of the men pointed at him.

"_That's the kid! Get him!_" one of them shouted. Issei had no idea what the fuck they were saying—it sounded Russian if he were to guess. What he did know, however, was that upwards of five guys with assault rifles were currently pointing their guns at him.

On instinct, Issei fired a single grenade. The weapon jerked in his arms and he yelped in surprise. The grenade impacted behind the group of enemies, the force of the blast shoving them in his direction. Holding his arms steady, he grit his teeth and scrambled to fire another grenade, blasting three of the enemies back.

"_Ah fuck—return fire!_"

A barrage of bullets came his way, and the brunette ducked behind the truck. He attempted to poke his head back up, but a constant stream of fire stopped him. In a matter of seconds, the truck caught on fire, and he knew that in a moment it would explode.

Was this it? Is this where he would die? In the midst of a battle he had no place in? Alone? Just like he had been long ago?

His thoughts turned to his family. He remembered when he had been nothing but a street rat many years ago, when he ran from alley to ally, scraping just enough food day by day to survive. Nobody bat an eye when they saw the rags that covered his body, the bony limbs he had that barely held on.

But then, an angel swooped down and saved him. Amelia Hyoudou—no, Kaasan had saved him. She cared for him, gave him food to eat and a place to stay. And yet, Issei had done nothing in return for her.

He couldn't just die like this! Not after everything she did for him! His Ojisan too! That man pulled the both of them out of the depths of poverty. How could Issei die without paying them back first! At the very least, he had to survive for them!

**[Do you seek power?]** a voice boomed in his head. It was deep and ancient sounding, with a commanding power behind it.

"What?"

**[Do you seek the power to vanquish your foes, to protect your loved ones from evil?]**

Issei started. "Y-yes?"

**[DO YOU OR DO YOU NOT?]**

"Yes!"

**[Do you wish to see your mother again, boy?]**

"Yes!"

**[Then I will lend you my power!]**

"I don't know who you are, but I'll take whatever I can get!"

**[Very, well!]**

A surge of energy coursed through Issei's veins, empowering him. His left arm glowed brightly, outshining the stars in luminosity, and a large, red gauntlet formed on his arm. It had claws as sharp as the sharpest razors, and a majestic green jewel glowed powerfully on the back of the hand. Two spikes made of gold protruded from the top of it like horns, and the whole thing seemed to _hum_ with energy.

**[BOOST!]**

He felt strong, stronger than he'd ever been in his entire life. He felt that he could take on the world!

**[We will speak again soon, boy. Now go! Do what you must!]**

His whole body blazed with a green energy, seemingly ethereal in nature. His eyes sharpened and his fists clenched.

In one hand, he grabbed the AK-47, and in the other, the Grenade Launcher. It was time to get to work.

VVVVV

**EDIT: Let me clarify that Issei is SIXTEEN and that this is in August of 2019, nine months prior to DxD canon. Issei will be going to Kuoh Academy as a second semester first-year as a 'transfer student'.**

**Keep in mind that Asia, Xenovia, and Irina may show up earlier than in canon because of the circumstances surrounding Makarov's siege on Europe. That's all for now.**


	3. Arrival

At first, she couldn't see anything. The world was a giant, blurry mess that seemed to constantly morph as she turned her head. She could barely make out the flashing lights in the distance, the fluctuations in luminosity as _something_ happened around her.

It was hard to focus on what was going on since her whole body was in a state of numbness and pain at the same time, like she had been repeatedly slammed into the ground before being tossed aside. She couldn't hear anything either—only a loud, painful ringing in her ears, as if someone blew up a bomb right in front of her face. Oh, wait. Someone _did_. Or rather, that someone blew _themselves_ up to take her out.

When her eyes finally adjusted and her hearing finally returned, it was to find that the world had gone _crazy_. It was complete and utter chaos—like nothing she'd ever seen before. Not even the times when she fought with stray devils came close to this. If Amelia could describe the situation properly, it would be that one saying, 'When shit hits the fan'.

No matter which direction she looked there were men armed to the teeth, carrying guns, swords, and occasionally nothing at all. Streaks of light flew back and forth across her vision as guns were fired, sparks flew as swords crashed against each other, and fireballs exploded left and right as spells were fired.

The ear rending cacophonous orchestra of rapid gunfire, beating rain, and cracking thunder was deafening against her supernatural ears, and she found it impossible to even hear her own thoughts. The street that had once been a clean, pavement road was now nothing more than a large, battle-scarred crater-turned-battlefield.

It looked like a war was going on out there.

Amelia craned her neck to the side, only to find something pushing against it. She looked down and realized that she was buried in a cratered wall in the interior of her house. Her clothes were nothing more than tattered scraps at this point, exposing her creamy skin underneath. It didn't look like she sustained any injuries, but her entire body hurt like _hell_. Her tail especially had been nearly crushed behind her.

Gingerly picking herself out of the wall, Amelia took a moment to steady herself. She could sense dozens of auras outside, constantly shifting back and forth, some weakening, some standing strong, some _disappearing entirely_. Her breath caught in her throat.

She had witnessed people die before, yes. Some of the evil ones she's killed herself. But never have lives been extinguished so fast; it was maddening. She didn't have any time to contemplate when a few of the auras shifted, clear malicious intent flowing freely from them.

In a matter of seconds, Amelia was straining to defend herself as swordsmen rushed at her, blades at the ready. Their swords glowed ominously, and it was plainly obvious that they weren't normal, having been enhanced in some way. Her eyes widened, and she jumped back to avoid a vertical slash aimed at her torso. Her stiff muscles screamed for her to cease her movements, but she ignored them for the time being.

The attack had been much faster than that of an average human's, and the tip of the blade nicked her ruined pajamas, tearing them further. The swordsman slashed at her again, but this time she was prepared. The sword sliced the air above her head as she ducked. She kicked upwards, knocking her attacker in the chin with enough strength to pick him up off of the ground.

Her eyes fell onto the next swordsman, who had a shocked look on his face. She took the initiative and punched him faster than the eye could see. She was somewhat surprised when the swordsman managed to bring up the flat of his blade to defend himself, a testament to his speed and reaction time.

It didn't matter in the end; despite the sword's enhancements, it didn't stand a chance against her strength, shattering into pieces. The nekoshou followed through, landing a solid punch on the swordsman's jaw, sending him to dreamland.

Amelia turned to the last of the swordsmen who had come after her. This one took up a defensive stance, holding his sword in one hand, front and center. The nekoshou scrutinized his stance before charging forward. Before she even reached him, he preemptively swung his sword at her neck. Amelia raised one finger, filling it with spiritual energy. As expected, the sword didn't even scratch it.

In an instant, her fist was cutting through the air in a direct collision course with the swordsman's face. Somehow, he barely managed to move his head out of the way. Amelia's eyes widened the slightest bit.

It was now that she realized just how much that magic could bring to the table if used properly. While the swordsmen were nowhere near as fast and strong as she was, their natural strength as trained soldiers(?) was nothing to sneeze at. Add magical enhancements to that, and you've got yourself one hell of a dangerous dish.

She followed up with a kick to his side, one that he was unable to block. The feeling of bones cracking under her strength tickled the hairs on her skin. It was an odd feeling, both disgusting and satisfying at the same time. No doubt, the swordsman wouldn't be getting up anytime soon.

Amelia felt a sudden shift in someone's aura from behind her.

'_More of them!?_' In the blink of an eye, she sent a kick to their head. She was surprised once again to find that they had blocked her attack with their sword, but regardless, it shattered into a thousand pieces under her strength. Refusing to let the swordsman recover, a solid ki-infused strike to the chest sent the man flying, ribcage broken.

Surveying her immediate surroundings, she found that she was clear for a bit. She took the chance to step outside of the ruins of her house. The second she did, a sensation of wetness chilled her body.

The nekoshou glanced at the sky, noting that the rain hadn't let up at all. If anything, it had gotten worse. This provided a few advantages as well as disadvantages for her. On one hand, rain was perfect for obscuring her position somewhat, making it harder for any gunmen to hit her, and while the rain had the same effect on her, her eyes had natural night vision and she could sense auras. On the other hand, water-based magicians would have a field day with their craft. It didn't take her long to find a few.

Massive boulders made of ice were hurled back and forth, absolutely annihilating any swordsmen or gunmen that managed to get in their way. The only thing that saved them were either their own ability to dodge, or the other magicians that cast protective wards and barriers for them. Her eyebrows narrowed in suspicion.

Why are these guys fighting each other? What were their goals? She assumed that they were after her—why else would they have shown up immediately after the detonation? Questions that would need answers for sure.

Eyeing the chaos around her, Amelia gathered natural and spiritual energy into her being. The pain in her muscles eased a bit, and the tiredness faded away somewhat. It still hurt, and she was still pretty fatigued, but this would do for now. She brought her power to the front, flaring her aura. A brilliant sheet of blue covered her like a blanket—a showcase of her power. Her joints popped as she rolled her shoulders and neck, a satisfied sigh leaving her. A smirk settled on her face as she examined her body, now faintly glowing blue. Time to see what she could do.

The nekoshou's eyes were drawn to the right where she made eye contact with a gunman. His attire was interesting—there were no insignias or symbols denoting his allegiance, but the garments he wore were far from mediocre. A tactical vest of some sort over dark hydro-phobic clothing protected his torso, and his legs were guarded by black knee-pads over some other protective fabric that she couldn't identify. Now that she thought about it, a lot of these guys wore similar clothing, while others wore more distinguishable dress. Is this how they differentiated between friend and foe?

As soon as the gunman saw her, he pointed his rifle at her. Ducking under a haphazard spray of bullets, the nekoshou leapt into a flying kick aimed at the gunman. The gunman's head snapped back as she kicked off of him, sending him into the pavement. With as much grace as one could have, she flipped through the air and kicked off of a streetlamp, the shockwave of her jump shattering the glass. Like a torpedo, she shot across the battlefield at high speed, aimed at the next immediate threat—a man pointing a fireball in her direction. She idly noted that the man was wearing robes but decided not to question it, regardless of the current weather conditions.

With surprising speed, the magician canceled his attack and brought his arms up, erecting an ice barrier just before the neko-missile hit. Shards of ice exploded outwards as Amelia's empowered fist crashed through the barrier seamlessly. The mere shockwave from her punch was enough to push the magician back, but she didn't stop there. A quick chop to the throat defeated the unprepared magician easily.

Breathlessly, Amelia straightened herself and looked around. A swordsman locked blades with another and managed to parry his opponent, chopping off an arm before finishing him off with a thrust through the heart. A gunman traded fire with an injured magician, but was suddenly shot from behind by another. A lone magician brought his arms above his head, a magic circle forming over him. Amelia clicked her tongue as said magician turned towards her.

How many more of these guys were there? Why were they fighting each other? Questions that needed answers to be sure.

The magician hurled his attack at her; a barrage of ice crystals crudely shaped into knives. She slid under them quite easily—their own forward momentum had them soaring over her—and rushed the magician.

Predictably, the magician threw up a barrier of ice. Instead of taking it head on, Amelia condensed a ball of spiritual energy in her hand, shaping it into a needle. Positioning her fingers in an 'ok' symbol, she flicked her pointer finger forward, propelling the needle forward. It struck the barrier dead center, making massive cracks appear on it. Without hesitation she jumped into another flying kick, shattering the wall completely and throttling the magician behind it. The impact alone was hard enough to temporarily stop the rain.

Suddenly, at the edge of her sensory range, Amelia felt a presence appear, much different from the rest. It was familiar, disturbingly so, but different, and she couldn't quite put a finger on why. It had about double the aura of an average human, not enough to be inherently noticeable by itself, but it wasn't _fully_ human. A vampire? A werewolf? Or...a devil?

She paused her fighting for a moment and took a whiff of the air, sorting out the different smells from the crispy scent of the rain to the smoky smell of burnt gunpowder. At the end of it, she caught the faintest scent of something different.

'_A dragon?_'

The implications were not lost on her. Dragons were by far arguably the strongest, most domineering species to have ever existed. For one to be in town usually didn't bode well for other supernaturals. What did that mean for her, now that one was here? What business did they have with Kuoh?

The nekoshou took another whiff. Now that she thought about it, it kind of smelled like...all thoughts came to a screeching halt. Faster than ever before, she turned her head towards the aura. She suddenly knew why it was so familiar. After all, she'd been living with it for almost a decade now.

'_Issei? That's...but how!?_' She screamed in her head. It didn't make any sense—how had he gotten that powerful in only a couple of hours? Moreover, he was a dragon now!? She didn't mean to be vulgar, but _the fuck!?_ The only way this could have happened is if...the sacred gear! '_But I thought sacred gears only activate in emotionally stressful situation's?_'

The nekoshou looked around at the devastation surrounding her and resisted the urge to facepalm.

'_Issei, why did you come here!?_' she wanted to scream. She knew why, of course. Issei was never one to leave someone be if they were in any potential danger. The fact that he came running towards the explosion rather than away was proof enough of that.

Her heart warmed at the thought, but the expression on her face turned sour. If Issei's sacred gear had awakened, then he needed to get stronger as soon as possible. If he didn't, then the supernatural world will overwhelm him quickly.

It was well known that the different factions and pantheons went after sacred gear wielders like hotcakes in a 'join us or die' fashion. It would only be a matter of time until somebody found out and decided to approach him. By then he needed to be at least strong enough to fend them off if push comes to shove.

Amelia was broken from her thoughts when the aura shifted, and she watched as the boy she had raised for upwards of a decade vaulted over a truck. Immediately noticeable was the large crimson gauntlet donned on his left arm. Even with her limited knowledge on sacred gears, Amelia's jaw hit the floor.

Razor sharp claws that could cut through steel, a majestic green gem the size of one's fist, and a pair of golden spikes that jutted out atop the whole construct. There was no doubt about it, that was the Boosted Gear, a Longinus tier sacred gear that had the potential to kill gods...

A small amount of dread filled her body. It was next to impossible for a Longinus wielder to _not_ get involved with the supernatural. Issei would need to train his ass off to survive in the future. He was bound for destruction otherwise.

The nekoshou focused on the objects in the boy's hands. In his right was an assault rifle, and in his left was a _fucking _grenade launcher. His arrival didn't go unnoticed, and it wasn't long before bullets started flying in his direction.

Amelia couldn't hear what he said, couldn't even read his lips from this distance, but she could swear it was something along the lines of, "Take this, bastards!"

...

...

...That idiot was going to get himself killed.

Amelia loved her son. She really did. But jumping headfirst into battle without any prior experience whatsoever wielding two weapons he barely knew how to use without wearing any type of body armor to protect himself was _stupid_. She would have been a hypocrite in the armor department, but she was sure that ki-shields counted as armor.

The boy launched a grenade in a random direction—he probably couldn't see too well at this point—and with magnanimous luck, managed to hit a magician who had been charging up a magic attack. Issei made to charge further into battle but suddenly faltered. Even from here Amelia could hear his cry of pain.

He had been hit...

The nekoshou clenched her fists as her anger started rising. In a burst of speed, she launched herself forward to assist him.

"Dammit Issei, you stupid boy, why did you come here?"

VVVVV

'_I'm a fucking idiot._'

Those were the intelligent words that Issei chose to describe himself with at this current moment in time. He would have liked to say that he was smart—if not book-smart, then at least street-smart. It turns out that that wasn't the case, and he soon regretted his decision of jumping over the only thing that gave him some semblance of protection.

First off, it was dark as fuck now—he could only barely see silhouettes from the muzzle flashes of people _fucking shooting at him_. They might have been shooting each other for all he knew. The next point of his evident idiocy was the fact that he was wearing _fucking nothing_ to protect himself from the spray of bullets that came his way. There were so many coming in his direction, in fact, that he was sure that the flashing lights would give someone an epilepsy attack were they epileptic. Finally, he didn't have the slightest fucking clue of what he was doing. Why did he jump over that truck again? Oh yeah, cuz he wanted to be like one of those action heroes who faced their battles head on, except for the fact that he had no _real_ training whatsoever—only the bit that Ojisan taught him.

A sharp pain burned through his leg, so quickly and suddenly that he didn't register it at first. A moment later, he found himself on one knee, biting back a scream of pain. Through squinted eyes, he glared in the direction of his attacker and pointed the grenade launcher in their general direction.

"Piss off, wankers!"

Heh. Seems Ojisan was rubbing off on him.

The grenade launcher made a satisfying thumping sound as it kicked in his arm, a grenade flying out of the barrel and into the darkness. The resulting explosion lit up the night, and he caught a glimpse of a few enemies in the light reflecting off of their clothing. Frantically, he jerked his other arm in their direction and pulled the trigger, hoping that he would manage to hit something while he could still see them. That was a mistake and a half.

The AK-47 kicked powerfully and rapidly, throwing his arm all over the place. Bullets flew in all directions except the target he wanted to hit, and he mentally cursed for being a dumbass.

**[BOOST!]**

"Whoah!"

In an instant, the rifle's recoil became less powerful, and Issei's shots doubled in accuracy. The pain in his leg also lessened considerably, and he brought himself to his feet. He felt stronger. Much stronger, as if he could take on the world. He glanced curiously at the red gauntlet covering his arm. So this was his power? Pretty epic.

He made a note to thank the voice in his head when he got a chance to speak with him again.

Unfortunately, by the time the AK-47 ran out of juice, he had managed to hit _nobody_. Frustrated, he discarded the weapon and took the grenade launcher in both hands, deciding to aim it properly. Pointing his weapon into the darkness, he adjusted his aim according to the flashes of light. He pulled the trigger.

"Urk!"

He flinched as his face burned, a bullet managing to graze him. An angry growl left his throat as his shot missed widely. Damn those...whoever they are!

The pervert took off, running sideways as fast as he could in an effort to dodge whatever came his way. Rather than moving at a remotely reasonable speed however, Issei found himself almost tripping over himself when he moved at _olympic runner speeds_.

"Holy shit!"

The bullets that came his way were suddenly much more wild and spread out, and, seeing this, a grin slowly spread across his face. Aiming his grenade launcher once more, he opened fire on anything that moved. Explosions lit up the night, giving him small timeframes to see his enemies. He eyed an illuminated body nearby and ran over, sweeping up the weapon next to it. The grin on his face grew slightly wider after he examined it.

A pump-action shotgun—of what model he had no idea, all that mattered was that it was a shotty. Ojisan had showed him one once. It had been a very powerful experience. He wanted to try it out for himself.

Firing the last of his grenades, Issei discarded the launcher and brought the shotgun into both hands. He pumped it once, prepared to wreck havoc on the remaining enemies. Something stopped him.

A bright blue blur—the same one from earlier he realized—shot through the enemies' ranks, absolutely _annihilating_ them. The gunmen who had been previously shooting at him turned towards the blur, only to be taken out in the blink of an eye. It was a frightening and awe-inspiring sight, one that made Issei pause to watch the mesmerizing movements of the blur. His jaw slowly dropped as gunman after gunman fell to the rampage, until none were left to challenge the blur.

So distracted was he, he didn't notice the swordsman that jumped at him from his right.

"_RAAAGHH!_"

"EH—!?"

He turned, woefully unprepared for the sword that descended on him. He braced for the impact. It never came.

The swordsman was suddenly thrown to the side like a rag-doll, most of the bones in his body being pulverized. Issei stared, gobsmacked before turning to the thing that saved him.

Said _thing_ was actually a woman. A beautiful one at that. Her skin was a gorgeous white, almost like a porcelain doll, and literally glowing a soft blue. Her hair was a distinct ombre black that faded into a bright, silvery pastel blue. Piercing amber eyes stared straight into his soul. His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

"K-Kaasan!?" he gaped. "You're the—but I thought—and you have—" in his tirade of stammers, he caught sight of something _very_ wrong. "You have _CAT EARS__!?_ Kaasan, what the fu—"

He was cut of when a pair of slender arms wrapped around him. It took him a moment to realize that she was hugging him, another moment before he reciprocated. When was the last someone ever hugged him? The last time he remembered was a while back.

"You're safe..." he heard her mumble. She looked up at him, and a twinge of guilt went through him when he saw the worry in those amber eyes.

He gulped. "O-of course I'm safe. Those guys won't be enough to take me down!" he stammered. "Besides, how could I go down if I still haven't accomplished my dream yet?" he joked.

Kaasan—er, Amelia seemed to lighten up a bit. "I guess..."

_SLAP!_

Or not.

His cheek stung with the fury of a thousand angry mothers as a palm struck the side of his face. Tears stung his eyes, and he fearfully looked back at his mother to see bangs covering her eyes ominously, a dark cloud of fury hanging over her.

'_Uh oh__._'

"What were you _THINKING!?_ Running in headfirst like that? You could have died, Issei!"

He made to retort, but his mother's glare shut him down. She was right anyways. What _had_ he been thinking? It was a stupid decision on his part. Had he any sort of formal training, things might have gone a little differently. Ham-fisted as he was, everything he had done up until now had been pure luck.

Amelia sighed. "Geez, why don't you think with the head on your shoulders for once?"

His cheeks flushed lightly. Embarrassingly enough, it was well known that he was a pervert among those few who actually knew him, chief among them being his mother. He still didn't know how she knew, but he was too embarrassed about it to bring up the topic.

"Er, did you have to word it like that, Kaasan?"

"Yes." His shoulders slumped comically at that. Leave it to his mother to call out all of his faults. Amelia's eyes softened upon seeing his downcast look. "I'm just glad you're safe Issei. Just try to be more careful next time, okay?"

Issei nodded sheepishly. "Uh, yeah, sure." He paused. "Speaking of next time..."

An explosion rumbled in the distance, prompting both of them to look back towards the battle. It didn't seem like it would end anytime soon. Amelia hoped all of the innocents got out in time. She looked back at Issei thoughtfully. There was a certain look on his face, one that said he was having trouble digesting what was going on.

"Issei, do you perhaps wish to finish this fight?"

He replied instantly. "We can't just let them be, can we? They'll destroy the whole neighborhood at this rate! Hell, maybe the whole town!"

True. If left to their own devices, the men would probably do untold amounts of destruction.

"It would be best for us to—"

She saw a flash of light from the corner of her eye. Eyes widening, she pushed Issei out of the way.

Issei yelped as he tripped over, falling down back-first. Three punctuating bangs reached his ears, and with it a cold sense of apprehension. He heard a sharp gasp and looked up. His body stiffened and his blood ran cold.

Amelia stood, arms out with a half-formed ball of some sort of energy in her hands. Three large holes had been punched into her chest, blood flowing freely from them. Issei found himself rooted on the spot, terrified of the sight. Another gasp was heard.

"K-Kaasan! KAASAN!" Issei screamed.

Amelia fell to her knees, grabbing at the air. He tried to support her, but pain suddenly lanced up his leg, the same one that had been shot earlier. He fell on his side, hitting the ground hard and landing next to Amelia. He looked into her eyes desperately, and was only slightly relieved to find her still breathing.

"Fuck—Kaasan?"

"I-I'm okay," she coughed. "I-Issei, that's not a normal gun—ah!"

She was cut off with a pained scream as a another bullet was fired.

"_Take that, bitch!_"

Issei grit his teeth and glared at the attacker. It was a man wearing what amounted to tank armor, layers of steel plates covering his body. His helmet covered his face, two goggles staring coldly at the boy. He held a machine gun in his hands, the tip of the barrel smoking. The man looked like a fucking heavyweight wrestler on steroids, intimidating as that may be.

Issei didn't care. His eyes burned with unrestrained fury as his teeth ground together painfully. A new urge, one that he had never felt before, began to rise within him.

His knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists, and his glare was powerful enough to melt steel. And in that instant, something within him snapped.

**[BOOST!]**

Slowly and deliberately, he rose from the floor.

"You...you hurt Kaasan," he ground out murderously. Eyes filled with hatred, he began walking forward. A bullet pierced his shoulder, tearing through his flesh. He ignored the pain. Another bullet hit, then another, yet still he pushed on. "You...Hurt...KAASAN!"

**[BOOST!]**

"I'll _fucking kill you!_" Screaming bloody murder, Issei threw caution to the wind and all out sprinted at the fucker. Left fist cocked back, he yelled as loud as he could, sending it forward.

Metal warped and dented under his newfound strength, and the armored man actually stumbled back. Issei didn't relent, hurling a storm of fists at the bastard who dared hurt Kaasan. With each punch, the armor weakened, bending to his will. The juggernaut threw out his elbow, but Issei ducked under it easily and sent his fist crashing against the man's helmet. His knuckles stung from smashing repeatedly against solid steel, but he didn't care.

**[EXPLOSION!]**

With one last war cry, Issei finished off his combo with the strongest hit he could muster, straight into the man's crotch. The crash was resounding, loud enough to be heard even through all of the gunfire in the background, and hard enough to pick the man off of his feet. The man seemed to be locked in place, either from pain or shock, maybe a combination of both. Issei smirked victoriously before removing his fist. Then he punched again.

A sickening crack echoed throughout the neighborhood, akin to the sound of an eggshell being broken. The look in Issei's eyes was borderline sadistic as he pulled back, preparing for another punch...

**[RESET!]**

Suddenly, all of Issei's strength left him, and he began falling backwards. "Oh, you've gotta be shitting me."

He landed with a heavy thud, staring up at the frozen form of the armored man. Then, the juggernaut seemed to snap out of his stupor. His entire body shook in a blend of rage and pain.

"_CYCA BLYAT!_" the man screamed in his language. Still shaking, he brought his rifle up and pointed it at Issei. "_I've had enough, Svoloch__!_"

The boy strained to get up, but his muscles didn't budge no matter how hard he tried. Guess this is it, then. This was the end for Issei Hyoudou. Dying at the hands of an overcompensating machine gunner while trying to protect his mom. Never in a million years did he ever imagine something like this happening. And yet, here he was.

Well, it had been a good run—at least, as good as it could have been. He was still pissed. He wouldn't be able to save his mother _and_ he never got to touch a pair of tits. He was a complete and utter failure, and nothing would change that.

It was funny actually. Not five minutes after making a promise to his mother, he broke it. At the very least, if he's going down, he'd go down in defiance. Bringing both of his hands up, he stuck out both middle fingers. This seemed to enrage the machine gunner more. Good.

The pain in his shoulders and legs were coming back as the adrenaline wore off. And holy hell did it _fucking_ hurt. It was getting a bit difficult to breathe too actually. Hopefully this fucker would just end it here and now.

The juggernaut slowly and deliberately pushed the barrel against Issei's leg. His eyes widened.

Wait, he was going to—

BANG!

"FUCK!"

Never before had he been in such _agony_. The nerves in his muscles all but screamed as they were torn to shreds, the metal projectile completely unforgiving as it rend through his flesh. An ungodly burning sensation made it feel like molten leg was being poured straight into the wound. He couldn't move, only able to stare up at the juggernaut in horror as he moved on to the other leg.

"No, wait—"

BANG!

"AGH!"

Tears—_real_ tears formed in his eyes as the pain became excruciatingly unbearable. Every tiny movement he made seemed to only magnify the pain, and he found his fists clenched to the point that they were numb. His vision darkened, black spots fading in and out as he went into shock.

For some reason, the thought of what laid beyond death plagued his mind, and he found himself pleading, a contrast to his earlier defiance.

'_Please. I don't want to die..._'

His mental cries went unheard, the juggernaut slowly aiming his weapon higher.

'_No, no, no! I__ don't want to_ _die!_'

The barrel was pointing straight at his head now, and for once in his life, Issei found himself more scared than he'd ever been before. He had flashbacks to the time before he met Amelia, met his family...

'_I DON'T WANT TO DIE!_'

_BOOM!_

The night sky turned into a sunny day as colors illuminated the darkness as far as the eye could see. Explosions so massive that they moved the clouds themselves detonated everywhere, pushing them in different directions. It was majestic and awe-inspiring, but also violent and _loud_. Louder than anything Issei had ever heard in his life.

So loud and bright were they, in fact, that all fighting in the neighborhood ceased immediately so that the combatants could gaze up at them in astonishment. So attention seeking were they, that _everyone_ noticed. Families that had been peacefully sleeping from miles away were awoken by the rumbling of the heavens, while those that were hiding from the battle merely turned their fearful heads to the sight. A certain redheaded devil's peerage, who had already been making preparations to investigate the commotion of the battle, looked out their windows in surprise and confusion, as did the peerage of a certain Student Council President. So beautiful and glorious were these explosions, that nobody was unable to look away. News anchors began to film the spectacle as social media goers started posting pictures and videos.

And as Issei's vision began to darken once more, he had one last unusual thought.

"Ojisan?"

VVVVV

Simon "Ghost" Riley was crazy. Roach knew this. Soap knew this. Price knew this. Hell, everyone in the 141 knew it. But even with this knowledge, Roach was _woefully_ unprepared for what came next.

After their plane had crashed somewhere in the mountains of Japan—it had run out of gas shortly after they arrived—the odd duo of lieutenant and sergeant hoofed it down the mountain, eventually making it to a quaint little town called Kuoh. Apparently, it was here that Ghost's sister lived and where the attacks may begin. It was also one of the few places that Ghost had set up a safe-house, this one being underneath an abandoned church of all places. Roach wasn't that religious, but he still felt that it was kind of rude to the spirits or whatever.

Once they arrived, Roach was surprised to find a secret passage that led to the well-furnished safehouse. There had been a place to sleep as well as a working bathroom, a mini-kitchen, an armory with a hundred-plus guns(holy hell), and a security room that had cameras situated _all over the entirety of Kuoh_, all of which had been _individually wired on a closed circuit_.

If that wasn't crazy enough, the bastard had an _armored car_ that he had spent a decade building on his own time—as in, whenever he came to visit Japan. The bloody thing had 16mm steel plating and was bulky as all hell. It was almost the size of a manned APC, except that it was only a six seater. Mounted on the top was an M134 Minigun, chambering 7.62x51 NATO rounds with a fire rate of 3000 rpm. That was fifty bullets in a second. Fucking hell if this thing wasn't expensive.

When he had asked Ghost, or rather, motioned to Ghost on where he got all of this stuff, the elusive lieutenant merely replied with another question; where did he think all of the dropped weapons and ammunition disappear to after lengthy battles? Also, anonymous stock marketing.

It made a lot of sense actually, but Roach never saw him do stuff like that, looting bodies and such. It made him wonder where he put all of that to keep safe before bringing to his safe-houses.

Now, the two were on their way to Amelia's neighborhood, Ghost driving and Roach on the minigun. The farther they drove, the more agitated Ghost seemed to get. When the two of them saw vehicles zooming by and men running on the streets with weapons from swords to guns, they knew something was wrong. Eventually, Ghost couldn't take it any longer, and pulled out a detonator.

Roach saw the action from the corner of his eyes, and they quickly widened. His surprise was noticed by Ghost, who responded in kind.

"Nothing to worry about, roach. I ain't about to blow this town sky high if that's what you're thinking." His finger flicked dangerously close to the large, red button. "Well, at least not the _town,_ anyways."

Without another moment of hesitation, he pressed the button, making Roach flinch. For a second nothing happened. Then the sky turned _white._ It was so bright at first that Roach had to cover his eyes. Once they adjusted a bit, he saw that the explosions were very colorful, made to be eye-catching. They were also loud as _fuck._ Moreover, there were so many that the clouds were being physically pushed away! It wasn't even bloody raining anymore! Even if Ghost said it'd be okay, Roach needed to be sure.

The sergeant ducked his head into the vehicle, giving Ghost his best, "_What the fuck!?_" face. Ghost only chuckled.

"A few years back I spent a week going around this town, rigging all sorts of shit to blow if I ever needed it. Harming innocents is a no go, so I had them designed to blow up in the sky as distractions instead." He grinned behind his balaclava. "Works like a bloody charm."

Ghost nodded his head towards Roach. "I hope you brushed up on your Japanese, Roach."

Said sergeant gave him a weird look.

"You ain't gonna be the one speaking it if it makes you feel any better—" a sarcastic look this time, "—you just need to understand what's going on. Clear?"

Roach gave an 'ok' sign with one hand.

"Heh, Roger that."

They arrived a few moments later. Both were surprised to see the number of men here, all of whom were distracted by the explosions, just like Ghost had planned.

The lieutenant's eyes narrowed upon seeing Makarov's men in the crowd. His grip on the steering wheel tightened as he swerved to the left.

"Slot the bastards!"

Roach didn't need to be told twice. The second his fingers pressed down on the triggers, the barrels whirred, spinning up for all of two seconds before bursting with bullets. The barrels were nothing but blurs at the speed they rotated, firing the heavier 7.62 rounds faster than was necessary. A seemingly solid line of bullets cut swathes into the enemy before most of them could even turn around. Those unlucky few that sustained too many hits were blown into chunks, entire limbs flying off as bullets ripped through them relentlessly. A few shots were returned at them, but none could could penetrate through the thick 16mm armor plating.

It wasn't until a minute later that Ghost finally noticed them. There Amelia was, sprawled on the floor in a pool of her own blood, but still conscious. Not too far was his nephew, Issei, who had multiple gunshot wounds in his legs. He wasn't conscious. Standing a few feet away from the boy was a juggernaut, who stared up distractedly at the night sky. It was painfully obvious what happened.

Instantly, Ghost's anger reached boiling, and the monster inside him threatened to burst out. His foot hit the floor as he put the pedal to the metal. He heard Roach getting knocked around due to the sudden acceleration, but he paid no mind. Eyes blazing with fury, he stared dead ahead at the armored fuckwit.

Not a second later and the armored car bowled the man over. The impact was loud and satisfying against Ghost's ears, and he stopped the car quickly.

"Roach, give me covering fire!" he shouted over his shoulder.

He could only imagine the, "_What do you think I'm doing!_" that was shot back at him.

He pushed out of the vehicle, brandishing his ACR and hurrying over to Issei. The boy had a pained look on his face, undefined tear tracks coming from his eyes. Blood oozed from the many holes in his legs and chest, an unsightly think to look at. Seeing the boy like this reminded Ghost of his other nephew...the one that had been shot to death in almost identical fashion to Issei.

No longer could Ghost's rage be contained.

He turned towards the downed juggernaut who was attempting to get up. Ghost didn't let him.

He briskly walked over, white and black sparks dancing around him. His eyes lit up in a literal blaze, a glacier blue that could freeze your soul at a glance. A well defined aura suddenly burst from him, but he didn't notice, staring at the dead man before him with cold, unforgiving eyes. His body ceased to be tangible, becoming the feared object of his namesake—a phantom, a _ghost._ A black mist with a skull for a face, untouchable by any mere mortal means.

All Ghost could see was a skeleton on the ground...

He stomped on the man's back. HARD. The pavement beneath him shattered into thousands of fragments, spiderweb cracks forming in a crater. With one misty hand, he flipped the man over, back facing the ground. Then, he stomped again, straight on the chest. Ribs shattered under the force, and the juggernaut screamed.

Ghost eyed the juggernaut's machine gun listlessly. He let go of his own rifle, watching as it suddenly ceased to exist, dispelling into the same black mist his body was now made of. He paid it no mind, grabbing the machine gun—a PKP Pecheneg, he noted. With as much force as he could possibly muster, he jammed the barrel of the weapon down into one of the juggernaut's goggles. The bulletproof glass gave like wet paper, and the juggernaut screamed in pain as his eye was gouged out.

"_AGH! __HELP—!_"

_BANG!_

The juggernaut's head exploded in his helmet, covering the remaining goggle in viscera. Wrenching the weapon out of the eye socket, Ghost took one brief glance at it before realizing that it was glowing. There were intricate designs on it, small circles with weird symbols. He remembered the brief chat about magic that he and the squad had back in the Caucasus Mountains...

The lieutenant attempted to holster the weapon before noticing that his body was still in a mist-like form. As if responding to his thoughts, his body reverted back to normal. The ACR he had very clearly seen disappear still hanged from his shoulder, the clothes he wore still clinging to him. Interesting...

Ghost was brought out of his thoughts when a bullet zipped by his head. Training kicking in, the lieutenant turned away from the juggernaut and hurried over to Issei, quickly picking him up and carefully placing him into the armored vehicle before tossing the machine gun in there as well. He made to do the same with Amelia, but was shocked to see her attempting to stand.

She looked like a bloody zombie, what with the red that covered her body. There were several bullet wounds in her chest, and the fact that she was still trying to stand told of her strength and resolve. Regardless, Ghost found his brain going at a million miles a minute as he worriedly rushed to her side.

"Christ in a hand basket, Amelia, don't push yourself," he uttered, supporting her with one arm.

"O-Onii-chan?" she whispered. "I-is that? How did you get here?"

He pulled open the side door, helping her in. "I'll explain later. Just sit tight for now."

"W-wait. Issei, where is he?"

Gunshots still rang loud and clear, but no longer from the minigun. Seems like it was out.

"He's right there," Ghost pointed as he climbed back into the driver's seat. "He's injured badly and needs medical attention. So do you. We're getting out of here."

He heard rustling from behind him and turned to see Amelia hugging against Issei's body. There was a faint blue glow emanating from her body. Amazingly, the bleeding from both her and Issei's wounds seemed to slow. Was that magic?

Now that he paid attention, Amelia had two features that most certainly shouldn't be there: a pair of cat ears, and two cat tails. He ignored them for now, putting the vehicle in drive.

He glanced over to Roach, who had ceased fire with the M134, now utilizing his M4A1. "Oi, Roach, get these two medical attention. We're bugging out!"

Roach nodded, holstering his weapon and ducking back into the vehicle before tending to the two new additions. Still far from satisfied, Ghost put the vehicle in drive before speeding off, the last few stragglers still firing at the armored car uselessly.

None of them noticed the two magic circles, one red and one blue, that appeared amidst the ruins of the battle.

VVVVV

**A/N: I have this strange problem when it comes to my fanfics: I'd always write a chapter, read it over, edit it, and then...promptly delete everything and start over when I realize that it's shit. This one chapter took quite a bit for me to set up.**

**Don't really have much to say except enjoy the chapter.**

**If there are any weird grammatical errors and shit like that, well, I'm only human so be sure to expect it sometimes.**

**Anyways, have a nice day.**


	4. Morning Hijinks and the Supernatural

It had been forecasted a week prior that a great storm was coming. Miraculously, the dark, angry clouds that carried said storm had been blown away, leaving a clear night sky. The evanescent darkness that blanketed the neighborhood was pushed away by the soft luminescence of the thousands of stars in the heavens that worked in tandem with the bolder rays of moonlight that shone on the town of Kuoh. As per usual, when the sun had set, the neighborhood quieted down. But this quiet wasn't the same. It was too quiet. _Dreadfully_ quiet.

There were no dogs barking, no crickets chirping, no wind blowing, not even the distant hum of urban life—the rumbling engines of vehicles in the distance. No. There was, however, the light crackle and pop of the uncontrolled flames that burned away at whatever they could. Eventually, they fizzled out—it was much too damp for them to survive for even a few moments. Then, it was quiet again.

It was this eerie silence that caught Rias's attention when she first arrived. The world seemed to have stopped moving, as if all the life had left it, as if time itself was frozen.

There had been a commotion in town, one that had gotten particularly violent, and, as one of the devil governors of the town, it was her job to straighten things out. But by the time she and her peerage had arrived after they saw the flashing lights in the skies, it was to find nothing but a desolate no-man's-land full of nightmarish horrors.

There were bodies _everywhere_. Some wore steel armor, others wore vests, and some even donned robes. Some of them had holes in them, others had unsightly lacerations covering them, and some had been eviscerated or blown to chunks, completely unrecognizable as human beings anymore.

It was abundantly clear that a fight had gone down, but the question was between who? What had they been here for? _Why_ had they come to Kuoh? Were there any of them left? The questions boggled her mind, and with what she had been given so far, which was virtually nothing, she hadn't gotten any closer to finding an answer.

Idly, her eyes were drawn to one of the human weapons—a gun of some sort. It was totally weird: there had been a fight between not just supernaturals, but regular humans with guns and swords as well. Frankly, everything about this was alarming to her. With each piece of evidence she found, more questions formed in her head, and it was painfully obvious that something was happening behind the scenes. Luckily, she wasn't the only one to share this view.

Another girl stepped up to her—one of her long time friends, and the other governor of the town. Heiress to the Sitri Clan, Sona Sitri was as strict as she was intelligent and didn't take anything lightly. As such, her views on this situation were held in high regard, Rias's own pride notwithstanding.

The bespectacled girl pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose as she turned to the redhead. "Rias, I suggest you not take this lightly. These..._terrorists_...have been hiding under our noses for Lucifer knows how long. They had waltzed right in, and we were completely unaware of them. I believe it may even be necessary to notify Sirzechs-sama of this development. I myself will inform Serafall-sama of the situation."

Rias bit her lip. She didn't like the idea of contacting her brother too much. When she could, she liked to remain independent. Of course, she would have to put this in her monthly report, but directly contacting her brother she would rather not.

"I understand, I will make sure to put it in the monthly report," she offered.

Sona crossed her arms under her chest. "You know that's not what I meant, Rias."

The redhead sighed. "I know, but I'd rather not. At least, not yet. If the situation gets any worse, I will make sure to contact him though. Is that good enough?"

Sona stared at her for a moment before conceding. "Very well. Should anything else happen, make sure to tell me as well. Remember that you aren't the only one governing this town. We're in this together, Rias." With that, the bespectacled devil walked off to conform with her own peerage members.

After Sona went to investigate elsewhere, Rias turned to her own peerage, who were currently combing through the remains of the no man's land that was the neighborhood. She could hear distant sirens getting louder as police vehicles got closer. They were running out of time.

With the scale of the attack being so large, everyone in town had noticed. It would be impossible to do a mind wipe spell on so many people, and it irked her a bit. By tomorrow, this event would be all over the news, and there would be nothing she could do to stop it. People would live in fear of another attack when they should be living in peace and ignorance. It was disheartening to her—such a cruel way to strike terror in the hearts of innocent civilians.

There was another thing that needed investigating as well. One of the biggest reasons people even knew about this terrorist attack at all. Earlier that night, there had been a phenomenon of flashing lights and extremely loud explosions—so large and powerful that they blew the clouds away and lit up the night for minutes. She had felt no magic coming from the explosions whatsoever, and that was worrying. Had the explosions been so intensely powerful that she hadn't been able to sense them? Or were they something else entirely?

Rias was broken out of her thoughts when she felt a tug on her sleeve. She looked towards the small girl who had gotten her attention, a cute little thing by the name of Koneko Toujou. The redhead opened her mouth to ask a question but paused seeing the frightful look on the girl's face.

"Koneko-chan...what's wrong?"

Normally, the girl maintained a stoic and emotionless mask. For her to be showing this much...something must have happened.

The white-haired devil took a deep breath and searched Rias's eyes for comfort. "I smell a dragon..."

Rias was shocked. A dragon? No way. For one to be in _her territory?_ This was more serious than she thought. She may need to contact her brother after all.

"...and..." Koneko paused, as if afraid of the words that would spill out.

"And?" Rias urged softly.

"and...Senjutsu."

The redhead's eyes widened. This...This changes things. Both a dragon and a Senjutsu user were in _her_ town? It couldn't have been a coincidence. She now knew why Koneko was so scared. With the white-haired devil's backstory, she couldn't blame her. All she could do was offer support.

Rias pulled the girl into a hug, wrapping her arms all around her body and pressing their chests together. "Things will be okay, Koneko-chan. We'll get this all sorted out. I promise."

If someone was utilizing Senjutsu, then this was a very dangerous situation indeed. To mess with the natural and spiritual energies of the world itself was a delicate and volatile act that required utmost skill. If not used correctly, Senjutsu could drive one insane.

"Buchou!" A newcomer, a handsome blond-haired seventeen year old rushed over, stopping in front of Rias politely.

Rias smiled seeing her knight. "Did you find anything, Kiba?"

"Yes," Kiba pointed in a direction, "there are tire tracks that lead away from the battle. Someone must've escaped."

The redhead nodded at the news. Finally, a good lead. "Well done Kiba. We will investigate it later."

"Ara, ara," the feminine voice of one Akeno Himejima came. "Looks like we have ourselves a little hunting party," she said, a playful tone in her voice.

Rias turned to face her. "That we do, Akeno. We'll all get through this together, right?"

"Yes!"

The redhead smiled. She loved her family.

VVVVV

_There was blood. Blood everywhere. Blood spilled from the boy's open wounds, pooling on the metal table and on the ground. The boy wasn't awake, but the masked man above him was, very much so._

_His hands shook as he took the tweezers, gently pulling at the threads of flesh that got in his way. Blood splattered all over him, but he didn't flinch. His eyes were wide, focused, and determined. He was no surgeon, but he was a certified field medic, and by God, he would not let this boy die._

_"P-Please! Please help him!" a woman pleaded at his side. He ignored her, invested in his work._

_"Amelia, calm down! Issei's gonna be alright, you just need to keep your hands steady." A man stood at his other side, putting pressure on the boy's wounds. Even with all the assistance he was getting, he wasn't sure the boy would make it._

_No...don't think about it. Just do it already._

_He yanked, squeezing the tweezers firmly. His hands continued to shake as he pulled them up, revealing a small piece of metal wedged between the tweezers._

_That's one. Seven more to go._

_Sweat dribbled down his brow. He wouldn't let the boy die._

Last night had been _hell._ By the time they arrived at the safehouse, Ghost's nephew, Issei, was already on his last legs. He had taken eight shots. _Eight._ Three in the legs, two in the shoulders, one in the arm, and two in the chest. By all means, he should be dead as dirt. It was a miracle that he was still breathing—all thanks to the anomaly, aka Ghost's sister.

Roach thought he was going loony when he first saw Amelia. Every sense of reality he possessed told him that she was an impossibility. The woman had _cat ears and tails_ for fuck's sake! It was like something out of a goddamn fantasy storybook. As time went on however, he soon realized that those appendages were real. At that point, he made the wise decision to ignore it for the time being. There were more important things to deal with, like treating injuries.

When Roach started the surgery, he had been positive that Issei would die. The boy had lost _way_ too much blood, and a few of his vital organs had been pierced. But, somehow, Amelia had managed to keep the boy stable, even as she cried tears of desperation. Her hands had glowed with some sort of fantastical energy, some sorcery bullocks. Roach had ignored that too. He had been fully focused on removing bullets.

After an hour's work, he had finally removed every last bit of lead. It was then that he realized Amelia had been shot as well—three times in the chest. She must have loved her son that much if she was willing to power through a whole sixty minutes of intense pain to keep him stable. Of course, any good mother would have done the same for their child if they could.

Never before had Roach seen such resilience outside of the 141. It spoke volumes of her will. He appreciated that. Once he finished stitching Issei back together, he had to take on the arduous task of operating on Amelia. Awake.

It hadn't been a pleasant experience, but at least Amelia could hold her tongue when it came to pain tolerance. The second Amelia's operation was finished, she had gone to bed with her son, muttering something about being able to heal faster.

Ghost didn't argue with her, clearly worried for her and Issei's well being. Roach couldn't blame him.

The two operators took turns watching over the patients, cycling every two hours or so to each get their own rest. Right now, it was the sergeant's turn to watch over the two and make sure nothing went wrong. It gave Roach ample time to think about things—all of the shit that's happened recently. He thought about himself, the 141, Ghost, Soap, Price...

_Shepherd._

The name left a bitter taste in his mouth. He couldn't shake that feeling of betrayal. It had been so sudden and unforgiving. From the very beginning, the general had intended to toss them away. It made Roach realize why Ghost was so hesitant to give his trust to other people, and honestly? He felt proud that Ghost trusted him—not only as a teammate, but as a friend. The strongest bonds were born in battle after all.

The sergeant's thoughts eventually strayed elsewhere, and he found himself getting strangely philosophical, questioning things like his own perception of reality. After what he had seen back in the Caucasus Mountains as well as what happened here in Kuoh, he could no longer deny it. Roach was no blind fool—he had 20/20 vision if you must know—and he knew what he saw out there. Magic was real.

Amelia was proof of that. Those old men in robes that stood up to his minigun fire were proof of that. The glowing circles that floated in the air last night were proof of that, and so were the massive balls of fire and ice that soon followed.

Had Roach not been focusing his fire on those magic-men, Ghost's APC might as well have been nothing more than scrap metal now. He was lucky that he had enough sense to do that.

It made him wonder if he could possibly use magic as well. The thought didn't make him giddy as much as it made him curious. What were the limits? Could anyone do it? How powerful was it?

After a few hours cycling back and forth between resting and watching over the patients, busying himself with weapon and ammo checks, etcetera, Roach had run out of things to ponder. As such, his thoughts turned to whatever was around him, and eventually, he found himself thinking about Ghost's family.

The lieutenant never once spoke about them, never revealed that they existed, and yet, here they were in front of Roach. He was curious to see what they were like in a 'normal' environment. If Ghost was anything to base them on, then they were probably good people, maybe with a few oddities about them.

Roach wasn't sure how he was going to deal with Amelia, though. See, back in the SAS, there had been no women at all, and Roach was slightly embarrassed to say that he had little to no experience with the opposite sex, even prior to joining the SAS. It was finally made official that women could join the British special forces back in 2018, but by then, he had already been in the 141 for quite some time.

Unfortunately(possibly fortunately?), after spending several hours confined to a room watching over two patients, he realized something about Ghost's sister: Amelia was _hot._

His eyes were constantly drawn towards the woman's beautiful face. There were no imperfections, not the slightest blemish anywhere. It was as if she was sculpted by a master artist. Her whole body was curvy and enticing, her skin a soft, creamy white. Her hair was a strange yet beautiful mix of colors, and those eyes...those beautiful amber eyes.

Ugh, how could he think about his commanding officer's sister in such a way? It just felt...wrong to him. It made him feel like a creep.

Now, don't get him wrong. Just because he isn't desensitized to women doesn't mean that they can easily distract him. He'd seen enough shit throughout his career that the sight of a beautiful woman wouldn't be enough to sway him. However, that didn't mean he couldn't appreciate beauty every once in a while. It was just unsettling that the beauty he wanted to appreciate happened to be Ghost's sister.

Suddenly, the blankets next to him rustled, and he looked over to find the subject of his thoughts stirring. Her eyes opened slowly, and she brought a hand to her lips as she yawned—dare he say—cutely. She sat up, and the blanket covering her top fell over, exposing her chest.

Roach stared.

He ignored the full, luscious mounds that bounced with the slightest movements, two small, pink nubs protruding out of the tips. Instead, he stared at Amelia's wounds, or rather, lack thereof.

There was nothing there—not even scarring! Wounds like that were supposed to take weeks to heal! How the hell...?

The drowsy catgirl turned to the sleeping body that laid next to her. She briefly studied her son's peaceful face, a warm smile settling on her own. The boy's healing process had gone well, and by the time he wakes up, he should be good as new. Amelia turned away, finally noticing the other presence in the room.

"Oh? Good morning," the catgirl said tiredly, her eyes opening slightly. Wait, that was the man who had saved Issei's life! But what was he...?

She was confused by Roach's deer-in-the-headlights look for a moment before she followed his gaze. A playful smirk adorned her gorgeous face. Raising both of her arms, she closed her eyes and stretched, arching her back. As a result, her breasts were pushed outwards in a very non-pg way. She moaned softly, keeping one eye half open to gauge his reaction.

Roach didn't seem to notice, still deeply transfixed by her healing abilities.

Meanwhile, Amelia internally frowned at the operator's statue-like response. It seemed he was a tougher nut to crack. Time to up the ante.

"Don't you know it's rude to stare, mister?"

'_Eh?_'

Oh. It seems she completely misunderstood the situation. The sergeant waved his arms in a placating manner as he looked away, giving her some privacy. Shit, he'd been pretty much staring at her breasts the whole time. Awkward.

"I don't mind if you stare. I'm used to it by now."

...'_huh?_'

A devious smirk on her face, the catgirl slipped out of her bed sheets, exposing the rest of her naked body.

"As a matter-of-fact, I find it...invigorating."

The change in atmosphere was instantaneous.

Putting her years of experience to use, she got on all fours and began slowly crawling forward, making sure to push her rear in the air slightly. Her juicy hips swayed provocatively as she inched forward, her silky hair cascading down her shoulders to obscure her breasts, her tail wagging back and forth excitedly. Like a lion she advanced on her prey, a hungry look in her eyes.

Every motion she made had purpose, every teasing flick of the wrist, every tantalizing gyration of her hips, every step she made forward, every flirtatious flutter of her half-lidded eyebrows, every suggestive bite on her lips—all to captivate her audience.

Her smirk only grew more sly as Roach quivered in his seat. She internally cheered at the fruits of her labor.

The sergeant could only gape in disbelief as his heart rate quickened.

'_W-What the?_'

What is with this situation? This woman is crazy!

Against his own will, Roach's gaze fell on her shapely rear, his imagination running wild. He watched as her tails flicked back and forth, making her movements sexier—er, more expressive in a way. His eyes were drawn back to her lips, and he saw a tongue flick out for just a moment as Amelia examined him, a hungry look in her eyes.

"Besides, weren't you the one that treated me?"

Roach paused before nodding his head, refusing to meet her eyes.

She crawled closer, dangerously close. Her body seemed to beckon for him to give in, to fall to her feminine wiles. She swayed her voluptuous hips in a captivating manner that would have put most men on their knees. Roach was no exception. No matter which way he looked, he found himself drinking in her form, the image of her bod being burned into his brain.

The _seductress_ stopped just short of touching him, her face mere inches away from his crotch. He could practically feel her warm breath on his groin, and it made him shiver in both fear _and_ pleasure. He tried to resist the rising temptation. But for all the resilience Roach had, he wasn't perfect. As such, he made the mistake of looking into the woman's eyes. Those glowing, half-lidded, lust-filled orbs that called to him, drew him in to the hook. Suddenly, Amelia seemed much sexier than she already was—something he thought to be impossible.

She licked her lips again, her hot, wet, voracious tongue seeking his attention, her saliva coating her lips, making them glisten.

"Isn't it only right that I repay you somehow? I don't have any money at the moment, so..."

Her eyes fell to his crotch which was finally slowly starting to rise—

No bloody way.

Roach stood up from his seat and glanced at the naked Amelia before walking away. Nobody told him she'd be like this, and he wasn't sure what he'd do if he stayed any longer. She's Ghost's sister anyway, _he_ can deal with this shit.

He wasn't even checking her out, either! He had been checking her injuries!

The poor sergeant heard laughter from behind him, and the tips of his ears turned red. He walked faster.

"Hey, wait! Don't go!" she cried out, "I'm sorry for teasing you!"

Roach halted mid-step and turned back to the woman, staring her straight in the eye. He saw the genuine apology in her eyes, the very same amber orbs that nearly got a rise out of him. He hesitated.

'_Fine then._'

Sighing, he walked back over and sat down in the same seat, staring at Amelia expectantly. And suddenly, it was awkward again.

The silence reined for what felt like an eternity, and Roach found himself cursing his inability to speak. He bit the inside of his cheek in annoyance when he felt his eyes being drawn lower again. Eventually, he couldn't take it anymore and so he stood up, reached over, grabbed a blanket, tossed it over Amelia's head (who squawked in protest), and sat back down.

Unceremoniously, the blanket fell over, exposing her nude form again.

Roach internally facepalmed.

"That was a little rude," the seductress pouted.

The sergeant retorted with a few hand motions, making a show of putting on an imaginary shirt.

"...Fine," she groaned, "you're no fun."

Amelia proceeded to put on a shirt several times larger than her own size—probably one of Ghost's. Roach pointedly ignored the fact that said shirt didn't cover her breasts so much as accentuate them. It honestly made her look _more_ enticing somehow.

The catgirl didn't stop there, though. She stood up and turned around so that her nude rear was facing the sergeant. Then, she _bent over _and_—wow_, she's flexible. Roach covered his eyes so that he wouldn't get an eyeful as he waited for Amelia to put on a pair of pants. When he looked, he saw that, again, they were much too baggy for her.

"I really did want to thank you, though." She sat back down, crossing her legs. "For helping us I mean. You obviously didn't have to, but you did anyways. Even with my Senjutsu, Issei had been on the verge, and I don't know really have that much medical know-how." When Amelia's fluffy ears flattened against her head, Roach felt a pang of sadness go through him. The instinctive urge to pet those things flared up, but he resisted.

"But you came along and saved him—us, and for that, you have my thanks." Her ears sprang up again, and Roach could practically feel the happiness in them. "Fufu, I guess I'll be in your favor then, mister...huh, I guess I never got your name?"

Roach froze, suddenly very aware of his inability to speak. Normally he would have made his universal gestures, but this was a special case. How was one supposed to convey their name without actually saying it?

Looking around the room, he spotted a pen and some paper on a desk. He held up a finger to the catgirl before getting up and retrieving the materials. Once he sat back down, Amelia gave him a strange look.

"Can...Can you not speak?" she asked curiously. Roach pointed to her in a 'right on!' gesture. He then made a motion showing where he had been hit. "Oh, I see. Er, sorry for bringing it up."

The sergeant waved her off before turning to the paper. In large capital letters, he wrote 'Roach'. Amelia scrutinized his writing analytically before her face scrunched up in confusion. She turned away after realizing something, a light blush on her face.

"U-um, the thing is," she said timidly, tapping her fingers together, "I can't read English that well."

'_Oh._'

He hadn't thought of that. Taking the paper, he erased the words and drew a picture instead. Unfortunately, he couldn't write well in kana nor kanji either, so he opted for a different approach. He drew a cockroach, plain and simple, before showing it to Amelia.

The poor catgirl was only more lost than before.

"You're a bug?"

Her ears twitched.

Roach made a 'keep-going' gesture.

"A pest? An insect? An ant?"

Roach groaned silently. It was clear that this was going nowhere. Looking around, he surveyed the area for anything that could help him, and unsurprisingly, there was nothing. The only thing that remotely pertained to a cockroach was...

'_Oh no._'

Of all the things he could have thought of, _this_ was his genius idea. He couldn't believe what he was about to do.

'_Ah, bloody hell, fuck it__!_'

He pointed directly at his own crotch.

"...You want a blowjob?" Roach made a sound of incredulity at Amelia's misinterpretation. How could she be so blatant...? "Sorry, but I don't do those. I can give you a free show, though," she said, smugly, "and, if you're lucky, I might even give you a lap dance." She winked.

Roach shook his head in frustration. Swiftly, he pointed at his groin and then to the picture of the cockroach.

"Cock...roach? Cockroach?"

Yes! Some progress!

The sergeant made a quick knifing motion at his crotch area.

"Roach? You're name is Roach?"

Finally! Roach gave the woman a thumbs up. That wasn't as hard as he thought it'd be, actually.

"Oh, well then, Roach-san, why didn't you just say so?"

...

...

An exasperated sigh left the sergeant. Today was going to be a long day, wasn't it?

A rustling sound brought his attention to the only other occupant in the room, who sat up in a daze.

"Where...?" The boy turned to them, blinking rapidly as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He quickly zeroed in on the mother and the sergeant, one of whom was on her knees in front of the other in a very suggestive position. "W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH KAASAN!?"

Yes, a very long day indeed.

VVVVV

Ghost massaged the chin of his balaclava as he stepped out of the security room. If there was one way he could have described himself at the moment, it would be: drained. There was so much going on, so much information that he had managed to gleam in these couple hours alone that even he needed a break from it.

After extensive tracking, hacking, and research, he had found much bad news. It was safe to assume that Amelia is only a low-priority target—Makarov had put a bounty on her head, so it wouldn't have made sense for him to send his own men. The problem is, Makarov's agents _are_ here in large number, which could only mean there is something else they were after, Amelia being merely a side objective.

Regardless of whatever it is they're looking for, it is bound to put civilians in danger. Civilian casualties are unacceptable—Ghost wouldn't allow it. He had become a soldier for the sole purpose of keeping the innocent safe, so that's what he intended to do. But how was he going to do that now that he was here in hiding, taking care of his family?

The lieutenant racked his brain for ideas, but came short. Maybe he just needed a break to recover himself.

"Say, do you know where Onii-chan is, Roach-san?" a familiar feminine voice chimed.

"Wait, Ojisan is here!?" this one was more masculine, but still young.

Ghost looked up from his deliberation in alarm, immediately picking out the two people who most _definitely_ should not be awake. They were both facing away from him with Roach standing between the two, looking in his direction. Ghost gave the sergeant a questioning look, who replied with a shrug.

"What are you two doing out of bed?"

The mother-son duo nearly jumped out of their skins, turning around to face him. The second Amelia caught sight of him, a broad smile stretched across her face.

"Your injuries, how the—!?"

"Onii-chan! You're here!" Amelia cheered. She didn't so much run up to him as she did jump at him, arms open wide for a hug. That should've been impossible—her injuries would have had her bedridden for days...curious.

Roach sweat-dropped as Amelia pretty much glomped his commanding officer. How could an adult be so excitable? She was acting like a child at a birthday party. At that moment, the sergeant wanted nothing more than to take a picture and save this moment for blackmail. If only he had a camera...

"Hey, Ojisan! Long time no see! Still wearing that mask, huh?" Issei greeted pleasantly. His expression suddenly turned into a frown. "How the hell do you keep showing up behind us anyways? You did this last time you came over too!"

The lieutenant didn't reply, too focused on trying to steady himself as Amelia snuggled deeper into his chest. It wasn't hard hard for her, considering that she was about 5'6" compared to Ghost's 6'3". Roach noted that her head only reached as high as Ghost's chin. Now that he thought about it, he was about 6'1" himself...did he really get almost seduced by someone half a foot shorter than him?

A shiver ran down the sergeant's spine.

'_Dangerous._'

"Er, Kaasan, aren't you overreacting a bit? You're gonna make Ojisan fall."

Amelia gave the boy a look of offended horror.

"What do you mean? It's been almost a year since I've seen Onii-chan!" She snuggled even deeper into the lieutenant's chest, Ghost struggling to reciprocate as he stepped back to catch his footing.

"Dammit, Amelia, you saw me yesterday," he mock admonished. His hand moved on its own, finding its way to the catgirl's head, ruffling her hair affectionately. It was the strangest thing Roach had ever seen.

A low rumbling sound was heard, and Ghost paused his ministrations. The rumbling stopped. He started patting again, and the rumbling came back. He raised a brow. "Are...are you purring?"

For the first time since they met, Roach saw Amelia's cheeks turn red.

"Th-That's—No, I'm n-not!"

The excited wagging of her twin tails along with the joyful flutter of her furry ears told otherwise.

"I-I just—nya!"

...

...

Her whole face turned tomato-red as she buried it into Ghost's chest in a feeble attempt to hide her burning embarrassment. Ghost had completely halted his patting, giving the catgirl a strange look behind his sunglasses.

"M-meanie!"

'_Cute._'

"K-Kaasan? Why are you...?" Issei failed to come up with the proper lexicon to describe the situation. He could only stare in shock as the implications of her diction, that one small 'nya', weighed in his mind.

'_My Kaasan's an anime catgirl,_' was the best he could come up with.

"Speaking of...'nya'," Ghost tested horribly, "Amelia."

The red-faced catgirl looked up from the lieutenant's chest, still avoiding his gaze.

"Y-Yes?"

"I want you to tell me everything."

"W-What?"

Ghost gestured to her ears. Though nobody could see it, his expression shifted from playful and teasing to seriousness. "Where the bloody hell did this come from? Who were those blokes back at shit's creek—the ones with them magic robes? Your injuries...how?" He sighed. "I know you know more than you're letting on, Amelia. I want to know, _everything._"

Slowly, with each word, Amelia's eyes widened. "O-Oh...I guess I have an explanation to give, don't I?" she said nervously, twiddling her thumbs.

"Bloody right you do," Ghost scowled. He held up an arm, and in an instant, it burst into black and white flames, sparks dancing around it. "I want to know what _this_ is."

VVVVV

"Fuckin' hell, Amelia."

Ghost didn't bother to hide his lethargy, leaning forward in his seat and massaging his masked visage. He sucked in a deep breath and released it slowly as he rubbed his forehead, eyebrows raised.

The four of them had settled at a table in the 'living room', which was really just an open area full of training equipment and a crudely-taped track. By the time Amelia had finished her explanation, an hour-and-a-half had passed.

Amelia coughed in her hand. "I told you it'd be a long story," she retorted.

"It was more like a wicked history lesson if you ask me," Ghost replied.

True to her word, Amelia gave an earth-shattering exposition of an explanation. According to her, the supernatural was real. Not just the supernatural as in people with fancy superpowers, but the occult kind of supernatural, where every mythology and religion actually exists. Everyone was having a hard time wrapping their heads around it.

God, Satan, Zeus, Amaterasu—all of them were real. Angels, fallen angels, devils and demons(yes, there is a difference apparently), mythical beasts—all of them were hidden among society, some hiding in plain sight, others living in dimensions separated from Earth, like Heaven, Hell, etcetera.

Amelia is a nekoshou herself, a special breed of cat-like youkai species referred to as nekomata. Her status as a nekoshou allowed her to utilize a special type of magic—yes, _magic_—called Senjutsu as well as Youjutsu.

Ghost was taking it the worse—not because the supernatural was a concept too difficult to understand, but because of the implications: Makarov was aware of the supernatural while the rest of the human world wasn't. The mastermind terrorist was already capitalizing on it, recruiting magicians into his army. This was bad. _Very bad__._

A trained magician, or in other words one foot soldier, had enough destructive potential to take on an Abrams Tank by themselves without breaking a sweat. If Makarov were to send his magicians to the frontlines...the damage would be catastrophic.

And now, by the looks of it, Ghost, Roach, and Issei were getting dragged into the supernatural as well.

The lieutenant leaned back in his seat, resting the side of his head on two gloved fingers. "Ugh, bloody hell..."

"But, to think that you've obtained Touki all by yourself...Onii-chan is so cool!" Amelia pumped a fist, smiling brightly.

As if all of this supernatural stuff wasn't already a big enough load of barmy, Ghost was now a supernatural as well, apparently, his blazing black and white auras being his powers. Apparently, the white aura was an ability called Touki, obtainable by those who had trained their bodies to the physical limits and beyond, or by those who were well-learned in the arts of Senjutsu. The black aura was one Amelia wasn't able to identify—she told him that he should experiment with it, see what it could do. Maybe he'll toy around with it later...

"No offense, but you're also really...odd, Onii-chan." Amelia's smile dropped into a frown. "Kinda scary, too. You don't have an energy signature at all—it's like you're a ghost."

Ghost snorted at the analogy.

"It's not funny! Even before you got these powers, your energy signature was barely there, like you were always sneaking around—even I couldn't sense it, and I'm a nekoshou!" Amelia said worriedly. "Now, you don't even exist anymore. Normally you can tell if someone is hiding because there would be a feeling in the air, y'know? But you're just...just...gone!" she made a 'poofing' motion with her hands.

Despite her worries, Ghost felt a small amount of pride at that. "I guess I'm just really good at my job, eh?"

"That would explain why you always show up behind us, Ojisan," Issei cut in, a thoughtful look on his face. "Ah, that reminds me!"

The boy stood up from his seat, putting his left fist in the air and concentrating. He tried to recreate the feeling of power from the other night. Nothing happened. Issei strained harder in a panic to not make a fool of himself. After nothing happened for the next few moments, he glared at his left arm.

"Oi, what gives?"

_FLASH!_

A familiar weight settled on his left arm, and he smiled victoriously.

"There it is." He turned to Amelia, who was suddenly a lot less composed than before. "Eh? Kaasan, are you okay?"

The cat girl shook her head. "Ah, I was just thinking. That's the Boosted Gear, at least, that's what I think it is."

"Boosted Gear?"

"Yes. It's a Longinus class sacred gear that doubles the user's power every ten seconds," she sighed.

"Holy shit... that's a bit overpowered, don't you think?"

"...Listen, Issei. This goes for you too, Onii-chan...and I guess you as well, Roach-san." They leaned in to hear what she had to say. "Now that all of you have been exposed to the supernatural, you won't be safe anymore. After encountering it once, you'll only encounter it more and more as you go on. Especially since you two have powers now."

She pointed at Ghost and Issei, "The supernatural are attracted to one another, and when people catch wind of your powers—especially you Issei—they will come after you, either to recruit you or kill you off. You will need to get stronger to survive."

Her expression became downcast and melancholic, even as Issei paled. "I would know," she whispered. All three males sweat dropped when her ears flattened on her head in true cat-like fashion. Roach had to resist the urge to pat her head once again.

"Amelia."

She looked up at Ghost, who was staring at her intently, his eyes burning behind those red-tinted sunglasses. For some reason, she grew nervous.

"Yes?"

"...Why did you keep this from us?"

Her ears flattened even more. "I..."

"Yeah, Kaasan," Issei added, his eyes narrowing, "Why didn't you tell us about this? Did...did you not trust us?" The hurt look on his face was crushing.

"Wha? No!" She waved her hands placatingly, "No, it's not that, it's just...I didn't want you to get hurt."

"Amelia, that's—"

"I know, _Simon,_" she cut him off. Ghost was silenced at that. "I know that you're a trained professional—one of the best in the world. But...this is different. There are people out there that can destroy entire countries with a _flick of their wrist! _At the level you're at right now, you wouldn't stand a chance.

Ghost bit his tongue. "You could have told us...and we could have gotten stronger."

"I know, I just...I guess I didn't want you to be burdened."

"Explain."

She sighed. "Ghost, you already have so much on your shoulders. You fight terrorists on a daily basis for no other reason than to keep the innocent safe. To me, that's already such a big responsibility. There's no need to put you through more than you already have...especially with your past."

She turned to Issei. "And Issei, you were already working your butt off just for our sake. You took on multiple jobs and studied all day and night—even between shifts just to go to school and get an education. You deserved a good life—one where you don't have to worry about people coming after you. I was just worried, okay?"

Silence reined, and Amelia feared that she said something wrong.

"I-I know it's stupid, but—"

Someone slammed their fist on the table, and Amelia flinched. She stared at the gloved hand before her, tracing it to the owner apprehensively. Her apprehension turned into surprise when she saw that it was _Roach_ who had done it.

He was shaking slightly, and for a second she thought it was anger. But her Senjutsu told her differently, sensing his emotions, identifying what she felt to be _passion_.

'_Such a heartfelt speech!_' were Roach's thoughts. He wanted to hug Amelia. He wanted to do it so badly, but he instead turned to the other two males, his hands flying around in a mix of gestures.

Issei only looked confused, but Ghost seemed to understand everything. The lieutenant gave a much exaggerated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I get it, Amelia. I don't like it, but I get it. I understand your reasoning. Having a family feud right now won't do us any favors, so I'll leave it be. Besides, we've all got our own skeletons in the closet," he reasoned.

"Me too." The rest of them turned to Issei. "I-I mean, c'mon, Kaasan did it to keep us safe, right? I guess I'm a little annoyed that you didn't tell us, but...you did what you thought was right. And I don't think you can do much more than that, so, I forgive you, Kaasan," he said. Amelia stared at him before chuckling. Eventually that chuckling devolved into full-blown laughter. Issei blushed, embarrassed. "W-what did I say? Was it that cheesy?"

"N-no, I just find it funny. I'm your mother for heaven's sake, I should be the one consoling you! To think that we'd be in a situation like this one day," she giggled. "Well, I guess I should say: thank you for forgiving me!"

Issei coughed, nodding vigorously. "Of course," he said, "What kind of son would I be if I couldn't forgive Kaasan?"

Amelia's heart warmed at the thought. This was one of the reasons why she loved Issei so much.

"That being said," Ghost snapped her out of her reverie. He gestured towards Roach. "Roach, you don't have to deal with this. This is an issue between me and mine, and if you stay with us, those blokes may come after you—like Amelia said. I won't force you to be a part of something that doesn't pertain to you, and at this point, all bets are off. I owe you one, actually, so if you leave now, I won't hold anything against you. It's your choice."

The two operators held each other's gazes for what felt like an eternity. It really put Roach on the spot, and he wasn't sure what to do.

But...if he left, where would he go? He had no home outside of the 141, which was as of now disavowed, and it was likely that General Shepherd had put him on a Euro/American terror watch list along with all of the other guys. Did he really have anything to lose by staying? Not really; therefore, he had everything to gain. Besides, Ghost was one of his best friends, and...

He glanced at Amelia, who had a hopeful look on her face...

Who was he to turn down such an adventure? Battle-hardened veteran he may be, grouchy boring old man he was not. He was only thirty three, dammit!

He gave a thumbs-up to the lieutenant who nodded in approval. Out of the corner of his eye, Roach saw a beautiful smile spread across Amelia's face, her ears springing up and tails wagging loosely. That made him a bit happier for some reason.

"Right then, good to have you on board, lad." He stood up, looking at a clock on the wall. "Bloody hell, we've been sitting here for hours!"

They all checked the time, and, sure enough, the hour hand was pointing at twelve o'clock in the afternoon. Someone's stomach growled loudly. Everyone turned to Issei who flushed under their gazes.

"Er, damn you stomach!" he 'cursed', "I guess I haven't had anything to eat since yesterday's lunch."

Ghost chuckled. "Alright. I'll see what I can whip up. Once you're all fed, rally in the security room. We've got business to do."

"Business? What kind of business?"

"...You'll see."

Roach noticed how Amelia was suddenly starry-eyed—as in, there were _literal stars in her eyes._

'_What the fu—_'

Catching his strange look, Amelia turned to him. "What? Have you not tried Onii-chan's meat dishes before?"

Roach shook his head. The lieutenant can cook? _That_ was certainly new.

"They are to _die for!_ Didn't he ever tell you? He used to be an expert butcher—"

"Apprentice butcher," the lieutenant corrected over his shoulder,

"—He knows all of the different cuts and how to cook them just the right way. It's amazing!"

"I never said I'd make a meat dish, Amelia."

The catgirl _face-faulted_. "Eh?"

"This safe-house has been sitting here for a decade now, and it's been about a year since I touched the fridge. Who knows what's been going on in there. You'll probably end up with canned rations."

"O-Oh," the nekoshou deflated comically, a defeated look in her eyes.

Roach chuckled silently at her reaction. Yes, he definitely made the right decision.

VVVVV

**A/N: Huzzah, another chapter finished in record time! For me, at least. Of course, what is a DxD story without its ecchi scenes? Gotta have those!**

**Anyways, I've got _gigugic _plans for this story, at least for the first arc. It's revealed that the supernatural is real, and the gang is taking it...better than they should, actually. **

**Issei has his Boosted Gear, Ghost has Touki and an ability I'm calling _Phantom_, and Amelia has her Senjutsu and Youjutsu.**

**Honestly, I have no idea what to do with Roach. _Yet._ I have a proper backstory for how he will obtain strength in the future, _but,_ it is lacking a bit. If anyone reviewing this wants to create a possible backstory for Roach as well as a plausible superpower, then by all means, go for it, and I may find a way to implement it into this story.**

**Until next chapter, see ya lads!**


	5. Planning and Experimentation

The security room was both messy and organized at the same time. At the far end of the room, opposite from the door, the wall was covered by a dozen screens, each showing a different part of Kuoh. Issei recognized a few of the shops, some of them being places he had worked at before.

On the walls ajacent to the screens, important looking papers were tacked on with thin threads connecting them to one another. In the center of the room was a large wooden table with an almost-as-large map in the center, numerous red circles and markings scribbled on it. Surrounding the table were four conveniently placed seats.

None of this really mattered to Issei. His thoughts were in disarray, the memories of what had happened the night before becoming increasingly clearer with each passing second.

He had killed people last night. His mind hadn't been clear then—he had been so focused on searching for Kaasan that he hadn't bat an eye. But now that he reflected on it, he felt sick.

The thought of taking another person's life appalled him, yet he had done it so easily the night before. He was just a normal sixteen year old boy—at least as normal as one could get under his circumstances—he should be dealing with the perils of high school drama and such. How could things have come to this?

No boy his age should have been so forcefully and mercilessly thrust into such a situation. Even after all of those talks with Ojisan of the horrors he had seen, as well as the minimal training he had received, Issei had been utterly and woefully unprepared for it.

The initial explosion had scared him to death, and he had feared the worst for his mother. He had no idea what was going on, all he knew was that he had to get over there. Was it a gas explosion? Perhaps an ignition due to electrical failure?

When he arrived, it was to find those men, those _terrorists_ that wished him and his family harm. Everything went by in a blur, and before he even knew what happened, there was blood on his hands, blood that was not his own.

He kept telling himself that it shouldn't be this way, that he shouldn't be feeling this cold, crushing weight. They had attacked him first, he thought, so he was merely defending himself, right? But no matter the justification he could come up with, the pressing guilt of being responsible for someone's death, the erasure of their legacy, their existence, was brutal.

Is this what it was like for Ojisan? Going out and snuffing out lives day by day without a second thought? He wanted to throw up at the idea. He had to remind himself that his uncle did it for the greater good, killing terrorists and vanquishing evil—all of that shit.

Even worse, those men had been trying to kill _him._ They shot at him relentlessly and mercilessly, and Issei could honestly say that he shouldn't even be alive. He had taken eight hits—_EIGHT_—or so he's been told. Even if he couldn't remember being hit so many times, he could still remember the pain.

The searing agony of having your flesh ripped apart by molten lead, the sheer impact creating a permanent cavity in your insides. It was a nightmare.

Why had they attacked in the first place? What were their goals? Those bastards had come out of nowhere and attacked for seemingly no reason. It pissed him off to no end.

He and Kaasan were just normal people, right? If so, what reason did they have to hurt them!?

The boy clenched his fists tightly.

He needed to get stronger. Something told him that this wouldn't be the last of it, and if Kaasan's explanation of the supernatural was any indication, this was just the beginning. If he didn't get stronger, he would die, no doubt.

All of that fighting the other night had been totally luck. He had run in there half-assed, wielding some funky super powers he had no idea how to use, firing weapons he had no experience with.

Hell he didn't do shit. Kaasan did all the work, taking everybody else out like a badass while he stood on the sidelines gaping like a fish. He should have been the one saving her, not the other way around. How could he be so weak?

And that juggernaut. That damn armored fucker. Issei felt completely hopeless when that sadist of a man mutilated his legs. His weakness and inexperience had led to his downfall, and he paid the price for that. Had Ojisan not been there, he would have been dead for sure. Kaasan too.

Shaking his head, the boy let out a deep breath. Another thought—a question really—burned a hole in his brain. Should the situation ever call for it again, would he be able to take another's life? If he did, would he get used to it over time? Would that make him a monster? Did that make Ojisan a monster...?

Issei threw a subtle glance at his uncle, shaking slightly. No. For all the men that Ojisan has surely killed, he couldn't be a monster. Not with the way he cared for Kaasan and himself. Even if other people thought he was a monster, he couldn't be. Issei wouldn't believe it.

Even so, Issei didn't think he could ever be accustomed to killing someone. It was just so...evil. But if a time came where he was forced to fight, to kill so that his loved ones would be safe, would he do it?

The boy hesitated. He thought back to all the things Ojisan had done for him, all the care and love Kaasan had put into raising him. Would he kill for them?

'_...Yes. I would, wouldn't I?_'

At that moment, Issei made a promise to get stronger so that there wouldn't be another close call like that. He would get stronger, so that Kaasan wouldn't have to worry, so that Ojisan wouldn't have to save his ass every time he fucked up.

Besides, how could he die when he had a dream to attain? Long ago, he had vowed to become HAREM KING! And even if all of this supernatural bullshit was coming to play, nothing will stop him from achieving his goals!

On that note, Issei shook himself out of his volatile thoughts. Instead, he distracted himself with his surroundings, scrutinizing everything in the room. Sat on his left was Amelia, who stared dejectedly at the floor, slumped over with her ears flattened on her head and her knees tucked into her chest.

Lunch had been canned beans, dull and flavorless as they were. The result? A very sad, cute Kaasan apt for perpetual head pats. As much as he wanted to, Issei _didn't _reach over and pat her head—that would have been weird. No matter how _cute_ his own mother was now, he must resist, if only for the sake of his dignity as a son.

Sitting across from the pervert was the sergeant, Roach. Issei wasn't quite sure how to properly address the man. The sergeant was a trained veteran, an operator of the best hand-picked warriors on the planet. Did he refer to him as senpai? Or perhaps sensei? It would be disrespectful to refer to the man as Roach-san. But would the man care at all? It didn't seem like it. Maybe just Roach-senpai would do...

The pervert felt that the man was familiar somehow. He'd never met the sergeant before in his life up until now, but something in the back of his mind told him that the man was familiar. Call it instinct—or even just a hunch—but he felt a genuine connection somehow. It honestly freaked him out—he should be totally wary of this dude, especially when he saw the man doing questionable things with Kaasan(ew), but he wasn't. It was like being with an old friend.

Little did Issei know, Roach was feeling the exact same way...

The last available seat was empty. Rather than sitting down, Ghost stood up with both of his hands on the table, his eyes sweeping over the large map in front of him. Issei waited with apprehension for the lieutenant to start.

Finally, the man took a deep breath, folding his arms across his chest. "I hope you lot are comfortable, 'cause we've got an ass-load to cover. First things first: until the situation on the surface clears up, we're stuck down here. This is the only place that nobody's gonna go looking. I've made sure of that..."

Issei looked at his uncle quizzically. "Down here? Actually, where even are we?"

"This safehouse is underneath a church. It's got a built in passage system that I've modified. Nobody gets in here unless they've got the firepower of a tank division."

Amelia was knocked out of her dejection, suddenly alarmed. "You built your safehouse under a church!?" How did she not notice when she came in? Had she been too busy healing Issei to realize?

"Relax, these rooms were already here when I found them, I just made use of them. I doubt anyone will come down here anyways. It was a dusty old place when I cleaned it out ten years ago. As far as I can tell, it's been long abandoned," Ghost explained calmly, waving his arms placatingly.

"It's still the angel's territory," Amelia retorted. "What if they find out?"

The catgirl pouted when Ghost only shrugged. "The big man upstairs hasn't smote me yet, so I think I'll be fine. For now...Anyways," he continued, bringing their attention back to the map, "the situation on the surface ain't a pretty one. Civvies are going crazy about what happened. The feds are calling it a terrorist attack, the press are saying it's a gang war, and online social media thinks it's bloody aliens. Nobody's getting anywhere with it."

Issei remembered the bright flashing lights he saw right before he blacked out. He still didn't know wether or not it was Ghost's doing. Maybe he should ask later.

"Unfortunately, there's nothing we can do about that. What we _can_ do is stop what happens next." The operative pointed at a large circle at the western edge of Kuoh. "Right here is where you lot we're attacked," he said, nodding to Issei and Amelia. "It turns out that there were two different groups that attacked at the same time. One of them is an anonymous mercenary group led by an unknown. The other is a band of organized terrorists led by one Vladimir Makarov."

There were gasps at that, Issei included. "Y-You mean the Makarov that's been bombing facilities all around the world since, like, forever? _That_ Makarov?"

Issei wasn't one for politics, but _everyone_ knew who Makarov was; the mastermind behind hundreds of terrorist attacks around the globe. The man didn't flinch in the face of anything, be it murder, human trafficking, slavery, etcetera. He was a true monster among men. The atrocities he committed were bone chilling, and the idea that this monster set his sights on Kaasan made Issei's blood freeze.

Unaware of the thoughts going through Issei's head, Ghost gave the boy a surprised look. "Seems the bastard's gotten pretty infamous recently."

"Well, he _has_ been on the news a million times, so..."

The lieutenant nodded at that. "Right then. If you didn't know, Makarov is the CIA's most wanted terrorist. They wouldn't call him that if he wasn't smart. Point is, a professional like him wouldn't have sent his own army after a low-priority target. In fact, he put a bounty on your head." He threw a sideways glance at Amelia. "Sorry sis, but you ain't that important."

"I think I prefer it that way," the catgirl replied, a disgusted look on her face.

Issei frowned at that. He wasn't known for his intelligence, but even he could see what Ghost was getting at. "Why are they here, then? Why did those assholes even attack us in the first place?"

"That's the problem—we don't know what he's _truly_ after. Only reason he would have attacked Amelia is to get to me, but he has a bigger agenda than that, which means he was trying to kill two birds with one stone. Lucky for us, the bastard cocked-up, and now he's got his own men on thin ice with those mercenaries. I reckon those blokes were after the bounty, actually. Now, we don't know what he's after, but we've got an opportunity."

He pointed at another circle, close to the central business district. "About two years ago, I planted a bug in Kuoh's largest cell tower—never thought it'd come in handy 'till now. Turned it on this morning and found something pretty interesting."

Ghost pointed at another large circle situated in the southeast of Kuoh, near the more dilapidated parts of town. "I managed to bypass their encryption, and since those tossers couldn't keep their mouths shut, they gave me the exact location of one of their warehouses, about two klicks to the east of the red light district."

Humming to himself, the lieutenant crossed his arms again. "If we're quick about it, we may be able to take them out within a week's time."

"W-wait, hold on," Issei interrupted. "You mean you want to go fight those bastards head on? That's crazy! We'll get ourselves killed!" His thoughts strayed towards the fight from the other night again, how there had been so many of them, how had been shot so many times.

Ghost paused at Issei's short outburst. He swept his gaze around the room and saw the concerned and partially fearful faces of Amelia and Issei.

The lieutenant sighed. "Look, I've been a soldier for almost twenty years, Issei. I'd like to think I'd picked up a few things in that time. Of course attacking them head on would be daft—we haven't even scouted their base yet. We've got a lot to do before that. Besides, Roach and I have taken out entire bases, just the two of us back then, eh Roach?"

He glanced over at the sergeant who nodded in confirmation, but neither Issei nor Amelia seemed quite convinced.

"Well, that's true, but still...this is just too much. So much shit has happened in only a single night, I just..."

Ghost pressed on despite Issei's disagreements. "As long as Makarov's men are in town, things are bound to get bloody. Not only are you in danger, but every last civilian in town has their life on the line as well. In my profession, civilian casualties are unacceptable. Even if I have to do it by myself, outmanned and outgunned, I ain't gonna let the bastards run without a leash, you get me?"

His eyes blazed with a fire that chilled Issei's bones. The inferno of a war-torn soldier, hardened from years of experience burned behind those elusive sunglasses, an expression of unbreakable resolve hidden by an intimidating sign of death on a mask. Issei could feel his determination, and it was oddly inspiring. His most recent quest to get stronger echoed in his mind.

"Officially, you two are civilians," Ghost motioned to Issei and Amelia, "I can't force you to fight alongside Roach and I. If you don't want to help us, fine then, we'll take the fight to them ourselves. I'd prefer it you be safe than sorry anyways." He paused for thought. "But, Amelia, you have the know-how when it comes to this magic bullocks. We'll need you in the future for sure when they start hitting back. And Issei, I know you don't have too much going for you, lad—"

"Ouch. My pride."

"—but you'll need all the experience you can get for the future when them supernatural blokes come for you. Plus, I know neither of you want this town going to hell. Neither do I. Ain't nothing gonna stop me from chasing them out. But your involvement is dependent on you. So...I know it's sudden, but, what do you say, eh?"

Amelia sat up straighter in her seat, catching Ghost's attention. There was a stern look on her face, as if she was about to reprimand a child. Then, she raised her hand...for some reason.

The catgirl's cheeks grew warm when everybody stared at her. After a moment of hesitation, she dropped her hand and spoke up. "Er, I-I'll do it. Under one condition."

"Name it."

"I want you to train Issei in martial arts. Like you did for me back then, remember?"

Issei raised a brow. "Ojisan trained you in martial arts?" He was ignored.

"Consider it done. I was planning on training him either way. He'll need it for what comes next."

A beatific smile spread across the catgirl's face, her ears twitching and her tails flicking happily. "Thank you, Onii-chan," she beamed. At the back of the room, Roach found himself bewildered by her radiance. He _so_ wanted to touch those ears.

Ghost only nodded. "Don't mention it, sis," he waved off. He turned to Issei. "And you, lad?"

The boy hesitated, and when it seemed he was about to answer, he stopped himself again. An agonizing bone-chilling thought came to his mind.

If these bastards were in town...and they were threatening the existence of this town...that also meant that they were threatening the existence of Kuoh Academy...and if they were threatening the existence of Kuoh Academy...they were threatening the possibility of high school life for him...and if they were threatening his high school life...then that meant they were threatening his one and only golden express ticket to becoming a HAREM KING!

NEVER! THEY SHALL BE PUNISHED!

"Ojisan, let's kick their asses! If they stay in town too long, I'll never get a gir—go to school!" he roared, a fire burning in his eyes.

Ghost chuckled at that. "Good on ya, lad. That settles it. We're all on board with this operation." While he still held some reservations about this, he felt that having the two involved might be for the greater good.

With that out of the way, he focused on the map once more. "Right then, back to the playbook, lads."

Excited as they were, the rest of them turned back to the map.

"The warehouse is our primary target for now. There's no way in hell it's the FOB though, it's too bloody small for that."

"FOB?" Amelia asked curiously.

"Forward Operations Base," Ghost explained. "That doesn't mean we should leave it be, though. It's our only lead so far, and who knows, it could hold a goldmine of info that we can use to our advantage." He paused, rubbing the chin of his mask. "That being said, we need to take it out as soon as possible. I'll be conducting reconnaissance at 0300."

0300? Wasn't that three o'clock in the morning!?

"S-so early? You _just_ got here!" Issei recoiled.

"We need to move fast—the longer they're here, the more dangerous it'll be. We don't get to sit one out when it comes to these terrorists. When an opportunity comes up, we take it, no matter what. Not only that, I don't have any active cameras in that part of town, so I can't monitor their movements...shit."

"Really?"

"Yeah. That doesn't mean we don't have other things to do, though." The lieutenant turned to Amelia, and the catgirl gazed at him curiously in response. "Amelia, do you think you can teach us magic?"

And just like that, the curiosity turned into starry-eyed excitement.

"Eh? Of course! I'll teach you everything I know, that way, you'll be able to defend yourselves against even devils! It'll be a great learning experience." the catgirl said cheerily. "Um, now that I think about it, I'm not sure if your guns will be that effective against the supernatural. I mean, I can dodge bullets fine, and they're only small pieces of metal, so..."

Ghost stared. So did Roach. "You can dodge bullets?"

"Er, the slower ones aren't too bad, but the fast ones are barely dodge-able. Really, it kinda just depends on how far away I am and how good their aim is. Usually, normal humans can't react to my speed fast enough to properly aim, but if they did, I guess they could hit me?"

It sounded more like a question than answer.

"...I see..." Ghost muttered. If that was the case, then conventional weaponry would be rendered null against more powerful creatures. He'd need to upgrade his weapons to be faster and stronger somehow. Maybe...

"Right then, we're done here. Does anyone have any questions?"

Amelia raised her hand again. This time, Ghost pointed to her. "What've you got, lass?"

"Well," the catgirl poked her fingers together, "I kinda don't have any clothes of my own," she said, gesturing to her baggy t-shirt and pants. "So, I'll need to go shopping really soon."

Ghost folded his arms across his chest, looking the nekoshou up and down. Makarov's men were probably consolidating at their own hideout. After such a large incident, they would be smart to lay low for awhile, especially since none of them looked Japanese, being Russians and all that.

Amelia, however, was a tried and true Japanese nekoshou, so she wouldn't have a problem with navigating the town. Maybe he should send Roach just to be sure...Even if the man was a foreigner and wielded guns of his own, he still had a legal gun license for the entirety of Japan, and nobody said that hiding your face is illegal. He should be fine as long as nobody recognized him...

"Tell me before you leave, when you leave. And take Roach with you."

The lieutenant raised a brow at the devious smirk that spread across the catgirl's face. Unnoticed by him, Roach sat up ten times straighter, suddenly very much alert. "Thanks, Onii-chan!" she hugged her brother.

"...Right," Ghost drawled, reciprocating.

'_What have you done, Ghost?_' Roach shivered in his seat. He shrank back a bit further when those glowing amber eyes of mischief turned to him, seemingly scrutinizing his form. '_Dangerous._'

"Now that that's all sorted," Ghost gently pulled away from Amelia's embrace. "We've got work to do. Issei, come with me."

"Eh? Sure thing Ojisan."

The lieutenant turned to Roach who was no longer shivering but was still contemplating heavily. "Roach, if you need it, take a rest. We haven't had much since..._Shepherd._" The name came out with such venom that everybody shivered, Roach included. "But, if you can, I want you learning what you can from Amelia as soon as possible, understood?"

The sergeant gave a nod of acknowledgment as Ghost turned to Amelia. "Think you can get the basics down with him? We're all only human after all."

"I'll see what I can do," she smirked.

Ghost nodded. "Right then, you're all dismissed."

VVVVV

When Issei stepped into the armory, he couldn't help his jaw dropping at the sheer vastness of the room's apparatus—in other words, the copious guns lining the walls possibly numbering in the hundreds, the metal tables and chairs with intricate handmade devices decorating them, and the crates of weapon parts, ammunition, and other shit he didn't recognize piling so high that a shadow was cast beneath them.

"Whoa," he muttered, awestruck. "Where did you get all this stuff, Ojisan?"

Ghost calmly strode by him, making his way over to a table with a particularly large gun on it. "What do you think happens to all the guns and ammo left behind by dead blokes after battle?" he answered vaguely. The lieutenant motioned for the boy to come over.

Issei complied, sliding up next to him. He began studying the massive armament before him.

There were intricate designs on it, circles with what seemed to be a combination of runic symbols and...mathematics. The body of the gun was glowing softly along the small carvings, a mellow gold hue.

It soon dawned on him that this was the same weapon from the other night. "This is the gun that hurt Kaasan," he said solemnly.

"It is, isn't it? So there must be something special about it...But more on that later," the lieutenant replied. He began taking the gun apart, slowly and methodically.

Piece by piece, he took apart the stock, the optics, the barrel, and the receiver.

Silence reigned, save for the few clinks of metals hitting each other, and Issei soon found himself growing uncomfortable. It wasn't long before he voiced his thoughts.

"So...what did you bring me here for, Ojisan?"

Ghost never looked up from his work. "I want to know how you're doing, lad."

"Eh?"

"I know what you went through last night. What you had to do."

Issei froze. Once again, the pressing guilt came back.

"I...I didn't have a choice."

"You didn't. And that's why I want to know if you're okay." The lieutenant looked away from his work, and even from behind the sunglasses, Issei could feel the genuine concern. "The first kill ain't ever easy, and I'm sorry to say it, but if you can't handle it, you ain't gonna get anywhere from here on out. Nobody your age should have to deal with this bullocks, and yet here you are."

He put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Which is why I'm asking now. Can you handle it, Issei?"

The boy gulped, his body trembling slightly. "I-I think so." He mentally berated himself for stuttering like that. Ghost's gaze burned a hole in his head.

"Are you sure about that?"

He hesitated. "...Does it get better?"

Ghost sighed in response. "It will, lad. Soon enough you'll get used to it. I've been doing it for too long to feel anything about it. But I know young lads like you who've offed themselves because of it." The lieutenant glanced back at his work. "You ever have second thoughts about this whole thing, you come straight to me, understand?"

"Yes sir." The response was automatic, almost as if it had been ingrained into Issei's brain long ago. "I just...I'm afraid that if I get used to it, it'll make me a psychopath or some shit like that, y'know?"

"You don't know the half of it, laddie," Ghost replied grimly. "Not the closest thing to the truth, but not the farthest either." He turned back to the teenage boy. "If it makes you feel any better, I used to be like that as well."

Issei's eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yeah. But by the time I completed my first mission, things changed. I got used to it _real_ fast. After offing about a dozen I didn't even flinch anymore. It actually scared me at first...but, now I don't feel anything at all. It's all just a part of life for me."

"I...I see..." The thought of being used to killing still chilled his bones, but Ojisan's words had relieved him somewhat. If he did get used to it with the passage of time, then maybe it'd be for the best. At least, he hoped so.

"Right then. I didn't bring you in here just for a talk," Ghost said as he stood up, pushing the weapon parts to the side. "Let's see what we can do with them superpowers, yeah? Whip out that gauntlet of yours."

"Really?"

"Yes. If what sis said is true, then you've got a hell of weapon glued to your arm. We ain't gonna let it go to waste."

As Issei processed those words, he felt a small bubble of excitement welling up inside him. The gauntlet—the Boosted Gear had saved his life the other night. The immense power it provided to him was an absolute rush, and he felt he could take on the world with it.

Extending his left arm, he called it forth with his mind, and in a flash of light, his left arm donned the majestic gauntlet. The boy studied it with notable interest, as did Ghost.

"So, this thing doubles your power every ten seconds?"

"Er, something like that."

Ghost nodded before walking over to the other side of the table and sitting in a seat across from Issei. He set his right elbow on the table, folding up his sleeves in the process. His hand was elevated over the table, open as if ready to shake someone else's.

"Let's have at it, then!"

Seeing the challenge, Issei smirked. Ojisan may be a strong dude, but with this gauntlet, there's no way he could win!

"You're on!"

The impromptu match started as expected, Ghost not budging the slightest against Issei's helpless strain. It was kind of embarrassing if Issei were to admit. But that didn't matter, he had a god-slaying weapon on his side!

"Come on, lad, put your back into it!"

**[BOOST!]**

"Take that!"

Issei's smirk fell from his face when the massive arm refused to budge. Ghost didn't seem the least bit perturbed by his doubling of strength. No matter, that was only the first boost. Surely another would do him in.

**[BOOST!]**

Another rush of power, the energy of the Boosted Gear flowing through his body, empowering it as a whole. With all of his might, Issei pulled in the opposite direction of his opponent. His veins popped as blood flushed through, supplying oxygen to whatever muscle group needed it the most.

And yet, Ghost's arm barely twitched.

"W-What the hell are you made of, Ojisan!?" he grunted between strains. He was four times as strong as he was before, and yet, Ojisan was still keeping up!

"Only the best, lad!" Ghost shot back. The lieutenant held his ground even as he felt the resistance skyrocket. Even as he wrestled, ideas popped into his head on how this power could be trained and utilized.

**[BOOST!****]**

Another rush, an aura of green energy bursting from the gauntlet. A harsh glow in Issei's eyes, the boy jerked his arm to the side with eight times the amount of his original strength.

"Ah, bloody hell!" Ghost finally began to fold under Issei's new strength.

It honestly amazed him and _slightly_ angered him, how this one gauntlet attached to an average person could outdo the strenuous strength training of a twenty-plus years SAS veteran...Fuck it, it pissed him off quite a bit actually. That was _so_ fucking cheating. In merely thirty seconds, an average teenager was making him cave even after the _years_ of commitment and strength training he put into keeping his body in tip-top shape. The shit he went through, fighting through hell and back to keep the world a safer place—all of it being spat on by the Boosted Gear.

Ghost wasn't a particularly prideful person, truly, he didn't give much a damn about shit like prestige and rank. But seeing how easily Issei was now beating him, how this average boy was shitting on the metaphorical hell that soldiers went through all their lives, sticking out their necks just to protect the innocent, getting jacked as fuck so that others didn't have to—it pissed him off. The boy basically got this thing handed to him on a silver platter.

Knowing this, the Lieutenant refused to be beaten. He reached deep within himself, and in an instantaneous moment, a white-black aura enveloped his body, his eyes glowing white behind his sunglasses. His muscles bulged as Touki enhanced them immensely, far more than his normal strength.

See, the thing is, Ghost could already break through thin walls of hardened concrete _before_ he got this new power. With it, his strength was magnified several times over. As such, Issei didn't stand a chance in _hell._

In an instant, Ghost retaliated, pushing against Issei's hand with such speed and force that the air around it seemed to flex and bend, brushing out of the way as fast as possible. Their hands collectively smashed against the metal table, Issei on the receiving end of the force. The impact was enough to make a large dent in the structure, the small shockwave creating a blast of wind that dispersed throughout the room. The vibrations alone knocked the weapon parts off of the table and onto the floor.

"Fuck! Ow!" Issei cursed, pulling his hand away in pain. He massaged it, briefly glaring at his uncle. "What the hell was that for?"

Rather than responding, Ghost took a moment to study his arms. The beautiful black-white aura enveloping them seemed so majestic in a way. The strength it provided him was immense. He chuckled mirthlessly to himself. Where has this been all of these years? The days he actually needed it...Had he acquired this power many years ago, he may have been able to save them...

He blinked away those thoughts.

"Well, can't have you beating me just yet," Ghost replied, folding his arms. He tore his gaze away from the glaring boy and looked at the table. "Bloody hell, look at that."

Just from slamming his hand down on the table, he had managed to make a massive dent in the metal. This Touki stuff is much more powerful than he thought. If this was what happened from something as little as an arm wrestle, then how powerful would his punch be?

The lieutenant caught sight of the dismantled PKP Pecheneg in pieces on the floor. He briefly walked over and picked them up, placing them back on the table.

"...Let's try something else."

For the next two hours, uncle and nephew would experiment with their powers, discovering things that they never thought possible. It turned out that the Boosted Gear was much more versatile than what Amelia had described.

Its ability to Boost, or double the power of the user, was not restricted to doubling the user's physical abilities; it could also double metaphysical and conceptual ideas. Ghost found it to be a bunch of malarky. The doors that this discovery opened up were ridiculous.

Doubling things such as willpower, tensile strength, hardness, physical damage resistance, pain resistance, emotion, and even _cognitive ability and perception_. It was just...fucking insane. What if things such as muscle gain could be doubled? That would be...pretty scary actually.

Another thing, an ability called Explosion, released all of the power that the Boosted Gear had stored up with each consecutive Boost after the user had reached their maximum capacity. This gave the user an unimaginable amount of power for a limited amount of time.

As far as either of them could tell, there were only two downsides. For one, after reaching the maximum amount of Boosts and using Explosion, the Boosted Gear would reset itself, draining the user of all the power they had been given. This could prove to be fatal in battle if Issei isn't prepared.

The other downside was that Issei couldn't Boost above the maximum number of Boosts he was allowed lest his body supposedly tear itself apart. The boy had begun to feel a strain after boosting five times, and couldn't boost any further. Ghost deduced that it was because Issei's body was too weak.

He equated it to filling up a glass bottle. If you filled it up to full and kept filling it, it would eventually burst. Perhaps Issei's physical body needed to be stronger in order to contain such power, then he would be able to Boost even more.

They weren't able to test much in the ways of quantifying strength, though. There was nothing to measure Issei's maximum strength with, unless Ghost was willing to sacrifice one of his metal tables to see how much Issei could dent it in one hit. He wasn't, by the way.

They _could_ however, test strength by seeing how much weight they could lift. At five Boosts, or sixteen times Issei's strength, he could easily hold up one of the tables with only one hand. And by holding it up, they meant supporting the weight of one table by holding up one of its legs vertically such that the whole table was parallel to the ground. Again, it was fucking insane.

Ghost found that his own Touki had magnified his strength to levels he himself couldn't comprehend. The very same table he had dented, he was able to hold up much the same way as Issei with no strain in his arm _whatsoever._ And, as far as he could tell, his Touki never drained.

It made sense—his Touki was the very manifestation of his life force as a weapon. It shouldn't drain over time, or, if it did, at a very slow pace. It also supposedly worked like a muscle. The more he trained with it, the stronger it, and by extension, he, would get and vice versa.

If that was the case, he would need to update his training regiment—just crossfit, lifting, and circuit training wouldn't be enough. He would also need to make a training regiment for Issei that utilized both his own strength, and the strength of the Boosted Gear.

After more or less fucking around with their powers for a while, Ghost finally came to test his other ability—the darker one.

The lieutenant stood in place, his signature black-white aura enveloping his body. Issei sat on his left, observing the man intently with a hand on his chin, Boosted Gear nowhere in sight. After a moment of brief concentration, it happened.

Issei breathed out a, "Whoa," as Ghost's very form seemed to disintegrate, becoming a black, flame-like mist that licked at the air, sparks of white coming off of it, though not as pronounced. His face was replaced by a white skull in the exact same shape as his mask. His sunglasses were replaced by two beady glowing eyes the same color as the skull. All in all, he looked badass. Even after the transformation, his form still took the shape of a human.

The sixteen-year-old shivered as the temperature dropped a few degrees. "Holy shit. You're like a ghost now. Like a real one! That's pretty badass."

Ghost gave no verbal response, approaching Issei without slowing down. "H-Hey, what gives—!?"

The boy's arms shot up reflexively as the mist collided with him. But rather than hitting him, the mist dispersed around him, coming back together behind him. A glacier-like cold fell over him, and his teeth chattered.

"T-That's a l-little cold, don't you t-think? Jackass," he punned, glaring at the mist.

Ghost's form shimmered slightly, as if chuckling at him. He didn't seem the least bit bothered being called a jackass by his own nephew.

Then, the mist turned to the right. A smoky hand reached out towards the metal table, grabbing onto an empty styrofoam cup. Rather than phasing through however, the hand firmly gripped the object, holding it up. After a brief moment, the cup phased through the hand, as if it wasn't even there.

The lieutenant picked up the cup again. He squeezed it lightly, and Issei made another sound of amazement as the cup disintegrated into the same black mist, never to be seen again.

After another brief moment, the mist dispersed revealing Ghost underneath, fully clothed with a styrofoam cup in hand.

"How did you do that?" Issei asked.

"I...I don't know. I just knew how." The operator took a deep breath, placing the cup on the table. "Bloody hell, the things I could do with this..."

Interesting. An ability to take on the form of an intangible mist that allowed him to touch physical objects when physical objects couldn't touch him. Apparently, he could also store objects with it.

It was funny really. Has he been so invested in his own legacy as Ghost that he's taken on the form of an actual ghost? Whatever the case, he wasn't complaining. This was _perfect_ for covert ops.

"Wicked."

"So? What are you calling it?"

"You want me to give it a name?"

Issei shrugged. "All superpowers have names. Haven't you watched any anime?"

"...No, I have not."

"Well, you can't just _not_ call it anything."

"If you're so adamant about it, why don't you come up with a name for it?" Ghost offered.

Issei hummed. "How about..._Phantom_."

The lieutenant gave the pervert a quizzical look. "Phantom?"

Issei flushed under his judgmental gaze. "I-I mean, calling it Ghost would kinda be redundant, so Phantom is like the next best thing."

Ghost nodded slowly. "Sure. Phantom it is then," he drawled. His arm lit up in a spray of black-white sparks as he activated the ability once again, studying it intently.

Again, all of this was just insane. All of these powers were like something out of a fairy tale. Each one was so diverse, and it made him wonder what he and the team may be up against in the future. Angels, fallen angels, devils and demons, magicians, vampires, youkai, and a million other species he couldn't hope to remember. Each one could crush a human in mere seconds.

What's more, Makarov supposedly had some of these forces on his side. It was crazy to think that armies of magicians and magic folk laying siege on Europe and the Americas could suddenly very well become a reality. It would be a bloodbath.

Price and Soap needed to be warned about this. The only question was, would they believe him? Probably not. Ghost himself still couldn't believe this was happening. If worse comes to worse he'd have Ozone, Scarecrow, and the others to back him up.

Now that he thought about it, he has yet to see what Amelia is capable of. It made him curious. While one didn't necessarily need to move at Mach speed to dodge a bullet, their reaction time would need to be at superhuman levels, and their speed, _much_ faster.

At a distance of 20 feet or about 6 meters, if one had reaction time that was instantaneous, they would _not_ be able to dodge it regardless of how fast they are, even if they were the fastest human on earth.

A bullet would travel the distance of 6 meters in 0.008 seconds if moving at a speed of 762 m/s, or around the speed of most rifle cartridges. If Amelia were to successfully dodge out of the way by a hairs breadth, given that she would need to cross a distance of only 1 foot, then her _initial_ velocity would need to be _at least_ 85 mph or 137 kph at the _very_ moment the bullet is fired, given that her reaction speed was instantaneous!

Holy _fucking_ shit! How the...what the...fucking what!? Not only that, but Ghost doubted Amelia's reaction speed to be instantaneous—it's literally impossible for that—which meant that Amelia was _much_ faster than that! Take into account the fact that her _initial_ velocity was that fast, and that she had ample time to accelerate, then how _fucking_ fast would she be at her maximum!?

Now, it is true that Amelia never specified how far away she was when dodging, and she said that those who shot at her weren't fast enough to aim at her, so she could be slower than that. Also, she clearly stated that dodging slower rounds had been eas_ier,_ not necessarily easy. Handguns generally fire rounds in the 350 m/s range, so at the same distance of 6 meters, she would only need to move at 41 mph or 66 kph. That was still fast as fuck, though.

How the hell did she move that fast without injuring herself? One would think that muscle or tendon tearing would occur if the body was pushed to such levels. Moreover, how fast did she react to the bullets? Were most supernaturals that fast?

As these questions popped up, Ghost found himself staring at the dismantled PKP Pecheneg, sitting on the table by itself.

From his brief inspection earlier, Ghost managed to gleam a few things about its design. First off, the intricate circles and markings running along the weapon, engraved into the metal. It was clear that these markings enhanced the weapon somehow, if the soft glow it was giving off was any indication.

The second thing he found was that this weapon was not made of any metal he knew of. It was heavier than should be, even for its size.

The third thing he noticed was the type of ammunition. It was the same 7.62x54 mmR rounds as any other PKP Pecheneg, except these ones had tungsten penatrators on them.

Essentially, they were armor piercing rounds, made for tearing through light-armor. These would have done a number on his APC.

Amelia had tanked three hits in the chest and stayed conscious throughout the whole night, or at least until she went to bed with Issei. The boy also managed to tank eight hits and was remarkably still alive.

Was this resilience present in all supernaturals? If so, he needed to upgrade his arsenal, and fast. Perhaps this...magical weapon was the key to doing so.

The lieutenant glanced back at his nephew. The boy looked pretty worn out, what with all of the boosting in the past two hours. Perhaps they should take a break.

"Say, Issei," Ghost started. "You should go and get some rest, lad."

"Huh? Okay, I guess. What's with the sudden shift?"

"We've got a _long_ week ahead of us." He walked over to the dismantled PKP. "I'll be drawing up a training regiment for you, so be prepared to run your ass off."

"O-Okay," Issei nervously replied.

The boy left the room a moment later, prompting Ghost to sigh.

Indeed, there's gonna be a _long_ week ahead.

VVVVV

**A/N: I'll be honest, not feeling too proud about this chapter. Feels a bit rushed. If anyone sees any holes at all, plz review and criticize my work. I'm trying my best to pace this story, but I'm not sure if it's going too slow or not.**

**That's all for now, gents.**

**SYD, signing off.**


End file.
